Trial by Fire
by Nea's world
Summary: The requested story about Glorfindel & Carathwan: What can a tired old warrier and a naive young elf possibly have in common?
1. Death is peace

Hello. Most of you probably already realize this: I don't own anything Tolkien created. I just borrow briefly.

The characters Lunian, Lenaith, Nallina, Carathwan, Luthier, Irithil and Ethwan _are_ mine, though.

That said, this is my first attempt at a non-Legolas LOTR fic, and I've tried a slightly different style in parts, so bear with me and let me know if you think it doesn't work.

Welcome to Trial by Fire!

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**_Chapter 1: Death is peace_**

Carathwan sighed slightly, turning to go back inside. She stopped, flushing when she nearly ran into someone.

"Something wrong?" he asked, one hand wrapping around her arm to steady her as she backed up.

She felt the heat slide from her ears into her cheeks. "No," she assured quickly.

Apparently _too_ quickly, because his light blue eyes narrowed slightly on her. Without releasing her he looked beyond her flushed face to see what she'd been watching. "Ah," he mused, an affectionate smile turning his lips as the couple in the garden took another turn, their fingers twining. "Jealous?"

She opened her mouth to deny, then shrugged. "Who wouldn't be, really?" she said at last, looking back at her friend and the prince. "They're beautiful together…"

"And she no doubt has little time for you."

"True," she sighed, but shrugged once more. "I cannot begrudge her that. She was searching so hard to find him… no, I can't begrudge her that."

He nodded slightly, watching Legolas pull Lunian against him, her back to his chest as they watched the light dance on damp leaves for a time, their fingers twined, arms crossed together over her waist.

"And you?"

"Pardon?" he asked, glancing back at her, almost absently releasing her arm.

"Are you jealous?"

Glorfindel smiled slightly, and clasped his hands behind his head. "I suppose I am, but like you, can't begrudge them anything. I more from his view, of course, as he has waited for her for over a thousand years."

Carathwan watched them draw slightly apart—just enough that they could resume their walk through the garden. "I can't imagine," she shook her head.

"Most can't," he agreed. "To die for something you love is comprehensible, but to live without it for so long… that—not so much." He shook his head slightly.

"But with her here, how could he have done anything else?"

He smiled faintly, a small noise of emotion—_maybe_ amusement—left him. "He couldn't. But it took him many years to come here, Carathwan."

She started to correct him, opening her mouth on 'Cara is fine', but paused. Instead she closed her mouth and looked again at the prince. "Why?"

He looked at her in surprise, his hands falling to his sides. "There was no guarantee she _could_ be reborn."

"So wouldn't he have wanted to come here, to be with family, with _friends_ when he lost her?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Foolish child," he mused, fixing such a solemn, wise and sad gaze on her that she closed her mouth on her protests. "Here, with _family,_ with _friends_… he could not have faded away."

"But he could have—"

"It is possible for en elf to die here, yes, but not Legolas, not from fading. Not when his mother was here. His father. All of his childhood friends. All of his lost acquaintances. There would have been too many people around him for him to die of grief."

"Then he _should have_ come here right away."

He sighed. "No, Carathwan. Until he knew he could survive, could wait for her to be reborn, could live on the hope that she _would_ be reborn, it was right for him to linger there, where he had the chance to die if he was sure his eternity would be nothing but torment."

With a frown she studied a small rock beside her toes.

With a weary sigh Glorfindel looked back at the couple. "Legolas."

The prince and princess turned at the call, their circlets glinting for a moment in the sun before they began their approach. "Glorfindel?" Legolas asked when they reached him, after inclining his head slightly.

Glorfindel smiled faintly. "Elrond would like to see his granddaughter at the feast this evening."

Lunian rolled her eyes at the oh-so-subtle _hint_. "I'm beginning to feel like we need to just built a talan somewhere in between the two and let them come to us."

Legolas chuckled. "Imagine getting either to climb up the ladder, love, and I think you'll reconsider."

She half-frowned, before finally snorting, tilting her head against his, a small smile curving her lips. "Well, we'd be left alone."

Legolas laughed, lifting her chin with his palm, setting his forehead against hers. "Give them time, love. Things will settle down soon."

"And if they don't?"

"Then we can choose either one of the two places, or somewhere in between… though I think it will need to be on the ground."

"Or at least be partly on the ground," she countered. "I kind of miss our talan."

"You lived in a tree?" Glorfindel asked, blinking at her.

She laughed. "The entire time we lived in Fangorn, Findy," she agreed teasingly. She looked up at Legolas, who tilted his head slightly to kiss her temple, before settling his forehead there.

"Give them time," he repeated. Then he quirked a brow at Glorfindel. "You may inform him we'll be there."

"For tonight, at least," he replied dryly.

Lunian shrugged. "Well, I spent more of my past life with elves that were not of Imladris."

"But spent all but a handful of days in this one with those elves."

"True enough… but Legolas spent far more time with the elves of the Greenwood…" She sighed.

Legolas chuckled softly. "Perhaps we should consider a few weeks at one, a few weeks at the other?"

She tilted her head to consider, and then nodded. "Yes," she agreed. "I wouldn't want to be away from Cara and Lina too long, and your friends are there, so…"

"Then that's what we shall do," he murmured.

"Or really, since it's not that far a walk, we _could_ build somewhere between. A leisurely walk either way for them or for us."

"We've time to think about it, my love," he reminded her, glancing from her to Glorfindel. He inclined his head slightly, then nodded at Cara. "I assume that was all, Glorfindel?"

"It was indeed."

"I suppose we'll see you at the feast then," Lunian murmured with a smile.

"Lunian?" Carathwan asked impulsively when the pair turned to head into the woods. "Would you join us for lunch tomorrow?"

Lunian glanced up at Legolas, who smiled faintly and nodded. "I shall make your excuses," he promised.

"Oh, I—"

"Don't be silly, Cara," Lunian chided, moving away from Legolas to hug Carathwan. "I'd far rather spend time with you than the ancient elves Legolas so enjoys." She glanced at Legolas over her shoulder, a teasing smile playing on her lips and dancing in her eyes.

"Those ancient elves are in most cases younger than I am, love," Legolas warned, his voice sinking into a near growl that cast a shiver over Lunian.

She laughed throatily and returned to his side, looking up at him with a look Carathwan didn't quite understand, though Glorfindel apparently did—he chuckled, shaking his head. "At the feast then, little one."

"Bye, Findy."

He sighed. "I rather wish you hadn't remembered that."

She laughed softly before allowing Legolas to draw her into the woods.

"Findy?" Carathwan asked after a long moment.

"Go ahead," he sighed.

She laughed, muffling the sound with her hands when she couldn't stop in a decent amount of time.

He sighed again, shaking his head.

Watching him let her laughter fade rather quickly, though there was still heat in her cheeks and ears. "Lord Glorfindel?"

"I think," he drawled dryly, "that you may as well call me Glorfindel after laughing so heartily at me."

"Oh, no, _with_ you," she murmured, laughing again at the doubtful look he gave her.

He smiled faintly and shook his head. "What were you going to ask, Carathwan?" he asked after a time.

She paused, then shook herself, remembering. "What was she like as a child?"

"You mean the first time around?"

She nodded, flushing a bit.

He leaned against one of the pillars supporting the roof that was over their heads, his eyes clouding slightly as he looked back through his memories. A slow smile curved his lips. "Interesting," he mused after a long moment. "She was human enough she had more trouble pronouncing things than elven children do, so nearly everyone ended up some muted version of themselves."

"Egola, Findy…"

"Ladan, Rohir, Rondy." He laughed at the last one.

She gaped at him. "Rondy?"

"Lord Rondy, actually," he grinned. "He allowed it, but had this look in his eyes that warned everyone quite well that he would no tolerate anyone else ever using the same."

"Understandable. Lord Rondy doesn't have quite the same impact as Lord Elrond, does it?"

"Anymore than Sauron would have been feared as Lord Snuggles or some such nonsense."

She laughed at the thought, though the name could never conjure in her the fear or shadow of fear she sometimes saw in the eyes of others.

"What?"

She glanced up at him, and started to shrug it off, but something about the way he watched her made her stop. She sighed, looking down at that pebble again. "So many have seen so much, and I…"

"Was raised here, away from the pain of the lands beyond these," he murmured. "It is not a detriment, Carathwan, though so I fear you feel it to be."

"But I haven't seen all the places that are sung about, I've never seen battle… I even missed Tanthien attacking Prince Legolas!"

"And are more innocent, more pure for that," he countered softly. "If they were given the chance to have met those they love on these shores, without worrying about death and destruction, without needing the skills of war… invariably they would do so. Yes, they've seen more, yes they've more to sing of… but it doesn't matter here. Here, there is nothing evil that is not within _us_. And those who haven't seen the evil possible carry far less of it with them. Think about _that_ for a while, child."

She looked at his eyes for a long moment, and saw a weariness there she hadn't before. "Is it so trying, being here?"

"Death is peace, Carathwan. Peace denied to many, and given to those who wanted it not. Do not be so hasty to judge your life by the lives of others."

She managed a weak smile. "Are you trying to say you would rather have been born here, after the elves that were going to ever do so left the other shores, raised without knowing the places elves sing about, without even _seeing_ the things that make the elders shudder, their eyes shuttering, unable to know that which ties so much of their world together?"

He sighed. "I would _rather_ that none had left the Undying Lands once arriving. That those who began the journey West had never stopped. That the Silmarils had either never been crafted or never lost. That bloody oaths and kin-slayings were not part of the past. I would rather many things."

"You didn't answer."

"No," he agreed. "I suppose I didn't." He looked at her for a long moment, inclined his head slightly and turned, entering the sprawling abode of Elrond once more.

Carathwan let out a heavy sigh.


	2. Protective arrows

Alright, new chapter a day early because I've taken my exames and I'm Frreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!... for a week. In that week, I probably won't update. I was planning on it, but apparently the internet where I'm going is on the fritz, which bites, because I was going to start pulling together a graduation gift for a friend. Oh well.

sharon: Yup, you're the first one to review. I think you reviewed within a half hour of me posting the storyquite impressive. Yeah, things are less tense now that Legolas and Lunian have things more or less worked out.

CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur: Long name. Anyway. Ahem goes into zombie trance Yes maaster... ;-)

HyperSquishy: I checked and rechecked. I didn't use 'possibly' in the chapter, even in the author's note. ?

SofiaB: When I first used that, I think one person got it and everyone else, if they noticed, were completely confused. 'Lord Rondy? Who's Lord Rondy? I don't remember him in the movies... doesn't sound very much like Tolkien, either...' LOL.

LJP: Is that good or bad?

The Hobbit Ivy: I completely sympathize with being interrupted. I think my roomie has radar. Anytime I'm in the midst of a good story, she has to come and tell me thousands of things I never cared to know about guys I'll never meet and don't think are cute. (read: stars).

juvenile delinquent: I have another story I'll begin posting soon. I just wanted to let it be for a little while so if I had anything completely insane in there I would be objective enough to catch it so I don't confuse people (myself too, at times). It's a Legolas/OC.

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Chapter 2: Protective arrows

She closed her eyes against the sun, but accepted its warmth gladly, absently toying with her hair as it dried. "What's it like?" she asked suddenly, breaking the lazy torpor they'd fallen into.

"What is what like?"

She smiled faintly in the voice's direction, but didn't bother to turn. "Knowing you've died before."

Lunian was silent for a long time, and when she did speak, it was with uncertain hesitance. "I… I've avoided thinking about it, really."

"You shouldn't."

Carathwan snapped her head to the side, wincing at a faint crack of bones when she'd done so. Lord Glorfindel inclined his head slightly to her in greeting, before sitting down with his back to one of the near-by trees. He drew his knees up as he tilted his head back to watch the leaves above them.

"Shouldn't what?" she asked at last.

"Lunian shouldn't avoid thinking about the memories of her death."

Both slightly damp females sat up to look at him, Lunian with more understanding than Cara. "Perhaps she should have asked you."

"Asked me what?" he asked, looking slowly from her odd eyes to Carathwan's plain grey ones.

She flushed slightly and looked away.

Lunian moved forward, sitting so she was facing him, arms folded over his knees. She set her chin on her arms and studied him for a long moment. "What is it like, remembering your death?"

He closed his eyes, a look of pain touching his features for a long moment. "Painful, remembering the agony of flesh and soul at that time… but my death was far different than yours."

"Yes," she agreed, reaching up to lightly touch his cheek for an instant. "I died an old woman. You died a hero."

"You died with certainty. Were it not for my fear for the others, my concern for them… I would have died in relief."

"Relief?" Carathwan asked.

He didn't look away from Lunian's eyes. "Yes. For so long… I don't even know how long, exactly, days, weeks… maybe it was merely hours. I'm certain the historians could tell me exactly, if I truly cared to know. But for that eternity of attack I watched my house dwindle. I watched families torn asunder or completely destroyed. Friends, brothers, sisters… no one was left untouched. The House of Golden Flower was all but decimated, and my house not alone. Gondolin fell… and took much of myself with it. After so long of fighting, surviving somehow only to fight some more… only the thought of leaving those few remaining kept me from welcoming death when it came."

Lunian had moved as he spoke, and now lay curled against his chest, her ear just over his heart.

He lifted a hand, running his fingers through her hair, helping it dry as he had when she was a much younger elf… or human. That he didn't embrace her seemed sad, to Carathwan. But, really, Lunian wasn't embracing him, simply resting against him.

"What do you remember, Lunian?" he asked after a long pause.

She sighed wearily, and shook her head.

"You need to remember."

"Legolas has told me."

"But you _need_ to remember."

"Why?" she asked, sitting up, her distress obvious enough to make him flinch.

"Lunian," he sighed, shaking his head slightly. "You _know_ you died."

"And I know how."

"But not knowing will eat at you, believe me. I… I remembered most of it, but the last moments eluded me… until suddenly rearing up." He stopped, shaking his head slightly. "It is… very troubling," he managed at last, his words stilted as he tried to explain what was hard for most elves to comprehend.

She nodded. "I know. I'm scared, too."

He snorted slightly but reached up, smoothing her hair back a bit, his fingers curving around her jaw, gathering at her chin. "What do you remember?" he asked again.

She bit her lip, and slowly shook her head, withdrawing. "No, Glorfindel. I won't. Not now."

"Why not?"

"I need Legolas," she murmured, wrapping her arms around her knees, which had been drawn tightly to her chest.

"Would you face it when with him, or would the pain of his memories stop you?" he pressed.

"Glorfindel!" she cried, covering her ears with her hands, ducking her head away from his gaze. "Stop!"

His lips pursed slightly as he reached for her, but a sudden dull thud paused his movements. He stared at the arrow protruding from the ground between himself and Lunian for a long moment, slowly looking up from it to the furious elf who had fired it. "You're back a bit early, aren't you?" he asked, withdrawing his hand.

A growling snarl of a snort was his only response as Legolas dropped to the ground behind Lunian, wrapping her tightly in his arms. He rocked her gently as she turned to him, eyes filled to overflowing with salty drops of fear and pain, soaking into his shoulder. Carathwan and Glorfindel could both see the emotions chasing across his face—worry, pain, concern, slight relief, then ruefulness as he looked at the arrow. He looked up from it to Glorfindel.

Glorfindel just smiled slightly, letting his head fall back against the trunk once more. "Don't let her hide from it, Legolas. It is a big part of your previous life together, isn't it?"

"How could it be?" Carathwan asked.

Glorfindel sighed. "Because they were both trying to deal with it the entire time, child," he stated slowly.

She could almost hear him telling her to think before speaking, and lowered her gaze to the grass between her toes.

Lunian's tears had stopped, as had Legolas's gentle rocking of her.

Carathwan waited a moment more before tentatively asking, "Lunian?"

The faintest flicker turned her friend's lips. "I'm fine," she answered, though her voice came out barely a whisper. "Sorry, love," she murmured a moment later.

"I was already preparing to return," he countered softly, voice slightly muffled by her hair. He drew back a bit, and sighed. "You do need to remember it sometime."

"And _sometime,_ I will."

"No, love. If you put it off, I'm told it's only worse."

"How could anything be worse than leaving you to die?"

His breath whooshed out, his bright eyes darkening a bit before closing. "You gave me what hope you could."

"Which hardly kept you alive and then had to sustain you for a thousand years."

"But I made it, love, and I'm here, just as I was there. The memories are hard, yes, but I will always be here."

She looked off to the side for a moment, then nodded, curling herself up tightly before she leaned against him, her head thus tucked under his chin.

He smiled wryly and kissed her temple, before nudging her side. "Shall we head in, love?"

"I suppose," she agreed, grasping the arrow as she fluidly rose beside her prince, brushing the dirt from the tip before dropping it back into his quiver.


	3. Sorry you cared

Okay, for those who checked this before this update went up, sorry about that. I had my little author's note all typed out, and I saved it, and when I uploaded it... it didn't work. I don't know why.

Anyway, thanks to those who reviewed!

To those who are concerned that it's still somewhat Lunian and Legolas focused, I realize it is. This story is here because of them, so they'll be around. After all, Lunian is Carathwan's best friend. It focuses less on them as the story developes, of course.

Animir: Yup, I had fun (for once). But, back to classes. Joy. ;-)

LJP: Yeah, Glorfindel could have easily lost a limb if he'd pressed...

The Hobbit Ivy: The (read:star) thing was merely meant to indicate what my roommate goes on and on about. Orlando Bloom, Josh Groban, Elijah Woods... I know more about them than I ever cared to, but can't seem to find the delete button in my brain. I'm sure I could use the space elsewhere, but Noooo. I have to know what their girlfriend's names are, and where they're from, where they are, where they're going. Sigh. If you find that delete button, PLEASE let me know.

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**_Chapter 3 sorry you cared_**

"Evening, Cara."

"Hey, Thil," she murmured back, looking up from her book. "Did you want something?"

"Just to know if you were going to _eat_ sometime this week."

She blinked, then glanced somewhat reflexively at the window, seeing the sun had already set. "Oh. Are we late?"

"No, but barely. Are you joining us?"

"I suppose I really should," she admitted after a moment, setting the book aside. She rose to her feet, stretched, and covered a yawn before glancing up at her brother. "Why'd you come get me?" she asked.

He smiled a little ruefully. "What else have I to do?" he asked.

She sighed, linking her arm in his. "I'm sorry."

"You were right about her."

"I'm still sorry."

"No you're not," he countered, his grey eyes delving into hers.

She half-smiled. "I'm not sorry she's no longer an interest of yours, true," she admitted. "But I am sorry you cared about her only to find there was nothing to come of it."

He ran a hand through his hair, brushing the golden mass back behind his ears. After a moment he smiled faintly and shook his head, pulling her arm a bit more tightly to his side.

They entered the dining hall through a side-door, and paused for a moment to adjust. The dancers, the music, the lights, the endless bursts of sounds and colors… it was a lot to suddenly be asked to take in. They found Ethwan sitting across from Lunian, who had a chair saved at her right.

"I guess the Prince deemed to eat with us tonight."

"Stop it, Thil," she hissed. "He and Lunian are wed, you know. She has to spend time with his friends, and he with hers."

"No he doesn't. They could sit individually, once in a while."

Carathwan just shook her head and let go of his arm, moving forward to claim the seat next to Ethwan as Irithil greeted Lunian.

"Hello, Lunian, darling," he purred.

She rolled her eyes with a laugh, shaking her head. "Aren't you _ever_ going to grow out of that?"

"Why should I?" he countered.

"Hmm…" she mused. "Perhaps because I'm a married elf, now?"

"And her husband is extraordinarily possessive and protective?" another voice suggested.

Lunian chuckled as Glorfindel sat down with a chair between them. "Can you really blame him?" she asked, smiling slightly.

A faint smile touched his lips as he shook his head. "No. Though if he's always like that…"

"He wasn't… but it's been quite a while since then. Things were more dangerous there, of course, so any hint of it here worries him far more."

His eyes narrowed in thought. "I know of two times, though he was present for one…"

"Only my death after that," she answered the question he hadn't asked, shaking her head slightly. "Although I nearly took drastic measures when I realized it was love shining in his eyes when he looked at me."

He looked at her for a long moment, and then nodded. "I would have expected nothing less from you, Luni."

She smiled slightly and then glanced up at Carathwan. "You weren't here for lunch."

"You were?" Carathwan asked, before sighing when Lunian nodded. "I'm sorry."

Lunian tilted her head slightly, studying her.

"Oh, don't do that," Carathwan protested.

Lunian caught herself, smiling ruefully. "Sorry. I know it's not totally fair to you, but it's part of me."

Carathwan sighed, but nodded. "I know… it's just…"

"Unsettling to know your emotions can be read like a book even when face and eyes are blank of them?" Glorfindel suggested.

"Yes," she agreed.

He snorted slightly. "At least she's not as nosy as Lenaith."

"Hey!" she protested. "That's my mother you're calling nosy!" Lunian protested.

"Well, she is," a voice behind her murmured. Legolas kissed her cheek before dropping down into the chair between her and Glorfindel. "Thankfully she gave up trying to get through my defenses long ago."

"Yours were well practiced," Lunian retorted.

"Can you read him?" Carathwan asked, looking curiously between them.

Lunian laughed softly. "I can, even when he doesn't want me to, though it is much harder then."

Legolas sighed. "It is hard to defend against," he grumbled.

"Is that why you've given up on doing so?" she teased.

"No," he countered quietly, bringing her hand to his mouth, lightly kissing her knuckles. "Because there is no longer any need."

A loving smile turned her lips, and she tilted her forehead against hers.

Carathwan looked away with a sigh—they were _always_ like that, and it was starting to get a bit nauseating, really. She realized they had over a thousand years to make up for, but they didn't have to cram it all into the first few months!

Bright, amused eyes caught hers, a faint smile touching his lips as he reached for his goblet.

She felt a bit better at his amusement, and turned to Ethwan, lifting a brow. "Already eaten and yet still sitting with us?"

He smirked faintly and winked over his wine at her. "Ah, my dear baby sister… you have so much to learn."

With a frown she opened her mouth to harangue him for that comment, when she noted a she-elf watching her brother intently. Every now and then he would glance at her, and she would promptly flush and look away, only to glance back soon enough. Her breath escaped in a sigh. "You idiot," she muttered, picking up her fork to toy with her food.

Irithil watched Ethwan and the unknown young elf, before finally rolling his eyes and shoving Ethwan off his chair, taking it for himself. "So… was it a good book?" he asked once Ethwan had finished glaring and dusting himself off.

She snorted. "I have no idea."

"You have no idea," he repeated, drawling. "So _why_ were you reading it?"

"I think the point is that she wasn't," Glorfindel murmured, wry amusement in his eyes.

She smirked at Irithil's blinking shock. After a while she eased back, looking over her shoulder at the dancers, seeing Ethwan still with who-ever-she-was. "Aren't you going to dance, Thil?"

He smiled faintly, but shook his head. "Not tonight, Cara."

She tilted her head, studying him for a time, seeing the slight storm brewing in his eyes. She turned around in her seat, facing the dancers for a moment before wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder.

He snorted slightly, patting her arm. No doubt his eyes showed only wry amusement, though Lunian, at least, would know the truth. "All right," he muttered after a moment. "Ease off."

She rolled her eyes, letting go in a stretch, leaving one arm resting against the top of her head, fingers dangling by her ears for a moment.

"Are you really that bored?"

She glanced up at Glorfindel. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"The music?" he offered.

She smiled faintly. "Which I've heard nearly every day of my life. I can hear these songs in my sleep."

He studied her for a moment. "I suppose it could get rather redundant."

"Especially as they like the same ones, unless it's a special occasion, or the rare new composition," she agreed. "And I don't have friends in other houses to visit." She reached out, picking her fork up, spinning it between her fingers before suddenly dropping it in boredom.

"Then, why not—"

"Carathwan?" a voice suddenly murmured quietly from behind her.

She looked up from Glorfindel, into dark grey eyes. "Yes, Luthier?"

"Would you care to dance?" he asked, shifting his weight a bit uncomfortably.

Lunian's attention suddenly snapped away from Legolas to Carathwan.

Carathwan noticed that, a brow lifting curiously, before she nodded at the elf. "I've nothing better to do," she agreed, accepting his hand. She found dancing enjoyable, as did most elves, but she didn't live for it as a few did. When Luthier asked her if she wished to take a walk in the gardens, she smiled slightly but shook her head. "No, thank you. Lunian is here tonight, and I should get back to her before her Prince drags her away once more."

"Another time, perhaps," he murmured, inclining his head slightly. He offered her a tentative smile before walking out into the gardens alone.

She smiled faintly and turned back to the table she'd left, crossing over to hear Glorfindel snarl at Lunian.

"Do not presume to understand."

Lunian sighed, even as Legolas gave the elder elf a small smile which was ignored, if even seen. "But _you_ are the one who doesn't understand," she murmured softly.

His eyes narrowed on her. "I understand more than you may think," he countered, turning his head sharply towards Carathwan as she approached. He started to say something, only to change his mind, closing his mouth abruptly. He stared at the musicians for a long moment, before getting swiftly to his feet. "Good evening," he murmured in general, leaving without ever meeting Carathwan's confused eyes.

"What was that all about?" she asked, lifting a brow at Lunian as she took Ethwan's long abandoned chair.

Lunian sighed softly, shaking her head as she gazed at the table.

Legolas smiled at her. "You'll understand someday, Cara."

"Then why not just tell me?"

"Because you should learn some things for yourself," he replied gently.

In that moment, she liked him far more than she had ever done—he'd _finally_ explained why some of the elder elves made her feel like such a useless child when she asked questions.

She nodded slightly, and looked at Lunian, who had a troubled shadow in her eyes. She glanced back at Legolas, who inclined his head slightly, assuring her he was well aware of it. That he did nothing told her Lunian would likely stew about it—whatever _it_ was—for the next few hours, no matter what anyone said or did… and would stew about it later if someone managed to distract her at the moment. "Well," she mused, not getting a response from Lunian at all.

When she sighed, Legolas smiled, nodding. "Good night, Cara," he murmured. "I think we shall take our leave soon, as well."

She nodded at him, shrugged at the still lost-in-thoughts Lunian, and got to her feet, returning to her room, staring for a long moment at the book before shaking her head, dropping onto her bed without changing.


	4. She won't last

Okay, quick chapter for you! Wanted to get it up earlier but had no time yesterday.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

LJP: You got it! ;-) This isn't going to be a super long story. This puts us between 1/5-1/4 of the way there.

Just a reader: Lunian is stewing over the emotions she can pick up from others.

Animir: Well, you're the second person to mention that, but I couldn't find any dialog that wasn't fairly self-evident... which isn't really saying much, as I could easily have not noticed any problems simply because I know who was speaking when. I think the only slightly off part I found was when Legolas comes in and kissed Lunian, telling her her mother is nosy. But still...

Alexis: Yup, she is still too immature, and the main of this story is her growing up and Glorfindel handling his own issues.

* * *

**Chapter 4 She won't last**

Ethwan and Alothie were standing front to back, both curled around the bow as Ethwan tried to teach her how to shoot.

Carathwan shook her head but returned to the book of Imladris architecture she'd been reading.

"Finally found something you find interesting?"

She smiled faintly, and shrugged. "It's alright. A bit dry, but the pictures make up for it."

"The pictures?" he asked, a drawling tone that made her look up at him.

She sighed, shaking her head. "It's a book on the buildings of Imladris, Findy," she sneered.

His eyes hardened. "We could go back to Lord Glorfindel," he warned, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

She exhaled just short of a snort, and pointedly turned back to her book.

"He seems—"

She sighed in exasperation, looking up at him.

He blinked at her. "What?"

"I was trying to ignore you."

"And I was trying to comment that he actually seems interested."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "She won't last."

"Why are you so sure?" he asked, head tilted slightly in curiosity.

"As Lunian could tell you, he's too much of a flirt, like Elladan. She's too shy for him."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Right now she's interesting to him. He'll draw her out a bit, get to know her, perhaps bed her, then move on."

"Spoken calmly," he observed, eyes narrowed slightly.

She snorted, shaking her head. "I have two brothers, Lord Glorfindel," she countered, lifting her chin. "Do you think they won't look after me?"

"I think that they can't always watch you."

"No," she agreed. "But I no more intend to sneak in shadows, should I become interested in someone, than they do. They will have time aplenty to express their dislike or mistrust of any elf who approaches me."

"And you would listen?"

She laughed softly, glancing up at the sky. "I'd listen, certainly," she agreed, still grinning.

"But it wouldn't make a difference, would it?"

"Oh, it would," she assured him, glancing back at him as he sat facing her. "But it wouldn't make me stop learning more about the elf in question, though it might taint my interest with caution."

After a moment of watching her, he inclined his head slightly. "Perhaps wise."

"As wise as any _child_ can be?" she asked, lifting a defiant brow.

His bright eyes searched her grey ones for a moment before shrugging. "There are times when you _are_ a child, and others in which you seem as adult as your years would claim."

She snorted. "Which, in your opinion, is still practically a child."

He sighed, laying down, hands under his head. He closed his eyes against the sun. "Maturity is not given by years, Carathwan. Lunian was an adult when Imladris traveled West—long since, by mortal time."

"But…"

"But she was not even of thirty springs?" he suggested softly. "It matters not. She grew up in a world of dangers, of trouble, of pain, and had to mature more quickly. Though, truly, had Legolas not fallen in love with her she might have taken it a little more slowly. As it was, it was nearly dizzying—one month a carefree child, the next an old woman looking through youthful eyes." He sighed, shaking his head slightly.

"Were you close to her?"

He cracked an eye open and glanced at her before returning to his previous position. "I've been close to few people since my death, Carathwan. She got closer than most, yes. It was simply her nature. Her enthusiasm, her human lust to know all she could before she died, her elven insights into others and the world around her… I knew her for fewer years than I did Estel, but cared more for that half-human child than the human King."

"And the elven child?"

"Is not mine," he answered softly.

"Not what I asked."

He smiled faintly. "She was _never_ mine. Never really anyone's, except Legolas's, from the moment of her birth, though she was given time with her parents. Somewhere in her mind she knew that, and managed to keep from forming attachments in her earlier years that could make him jealous."

"Tanthien?"

"In her _earlier_ years," he repeated.

She bit her lip to hide a smile. "So she wasn't as close to you this time?"

"She remembers far too much for me to say that," he countered softly. A shadow of something passed over his face, gone before she could identify it. "So… how long do you think she'll last?"

"A few weeks, maybe a month or two…"

"But?"

She smiled. "But I'd be interested if Irithil took a good look at her."

"Why?"

She laughed softly. "He's mostly bluster, you know."

"I've only noticed him with Lunian."

"Yes," she chuckled. "They've been playing that for years. Irithil managed to convince himself he loved her more than he does for a brief time… mostly because she was safe, someone who knew him well enough to know that he isn't what he makes himself out to be."

"Does she?"

Carathwan tilted her head. "She does now, at least. I can't really speak for a few years ago."

He smiled faintly. "So you noticed her grow up."

"I noticed her _age_, Lord Glorfindel. She grew a hundred years older almost overnight."

"No, Carathwan. She _matured_. There is a great difference."

She rolled her eyes. "Not as we're using the terms."

He chuckled softly, a faint smile touching his lips. "Perhaps you're right."

Carathwan laid the book aside, and watched her brother for a little while. "Are Legolas and Lunian entering the Ancient's Trials again?"

He snorted with laughter at the name. "They are, Carathwan, called the 'Trials of the Tried Warriors.' Not the Ancient's Trials."

"Well, it's the same thing, isn't it? No one can enter unless they were a fighter on the other shore… or fought in the kin-slayings here," she added, though quietly.

He flinched slightly at the reference, too, knowing as she did those elves only rarely entered, and usually so some younger elf who wanted to fight could do so as their student. "Yes," he agreed, a bit huskily.

"So… are they?"

He smiled slightly. "Haldir has already said he will fight, so Legolas and Lunian are as well, yes."

She looked at him for a long moment. "Are you going to enter?"

He shrugged slightly. "Probably. If not, I'll certainly be there, as the last trials were such a disaster."

"They weren't so bad. Legolas almost won."

"And ended up unable to use his arm for a week, instead."

"It got Tanthien away from Lunian, though."

He half-smiled. "I'm sure Legolas felt it worth the physical injury," he murmured, snorting softly.

She tilted her head.

"What?" he asked, opening one eye.

"I can't always tell when you're serious or not."

A slightly sad smile touched his lips. "I was, in that case. When in such emotional anguish, physical pain is not only easier to deal with, it can be almost a relief. It overshadows the other pain for a short time. For Legolas, it also managed to serve another purpose, as you said, which no doubt made it much more endurable." He snorted. "Besides, Legolas was used to being injured."

"What? Why would he be?"

"He was the only son of the King in a kingdom of wood-elves. He played alone as a child much of the time, in the wood."

"But that's…"

"Dangerous. Thus, injuries."

"Then how… how did he survive to be an adult?"

"He learned archery, swordplay, stealth. He walks so quietly out of habit, not natural gift, Carathwan."

"And you?"

He snorted, smiling faintly. "If I match him, it is mostly gift, as I grew up in far nicer times. Once there were orcs running around, I did try to be more quiet."

"Then why put bells on your horse?" she asked dryly.

He laughed softly. "Decoration… which tended to warn them away from me," he added, eyes hardening. "They knew of me, and fled, most of the time. An imminently preferable option, much of the time."

"How could a few orcs stand against the Balrog-slayer, after all?" she asked flippantly.

He shivered slightly.

"Lord Glorfindel?"

"I was merely joking, Carathwan. As long as you don't call me Findy, you needn't use my title."

She frowned slightly, but nodded. She watched him for a while, but he didn't stir, didn't speak, so she slowly reached for her book once more.


	5. Shooting Ladan

Alright, another chapter is here... maybe not quite what you were looking for, though. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Iluvenis: Well, to put it simply, he's interested in her. And she doesn't wonder about it because _she knows._ Clear things up? ;-)

Eyes of Sky: The book really doesn't matter. It's just something she was holding while she thought so she could think without being interrupted. Okay, just noticed you were the next reviewer, too. The about what is simple. Or really, about who (who? whom? I never know when to use whom over who).

Animir: Yes, overall is a word. I reread the chapter and you're right--a lot more dialog than usual. I am trying a slightly different style of writing in this story, and that kind of factors in.

* * *

_**Chapter 5 Shooting Ladan**_

Irithil sighed. "Go on," he muttered.

Ethwan looked up. "Huh?"

"He told you to go," Carathwan murmured quietly.

"Why?" Ethwan frowned. "You two don't want me anymore?" he pouted.

They rolled their eyes at him, making him frown once more.

"For all that you have my hair, Cara," he muttered, "you're more like Irithil."

"The eyes are closer to the heart than the hair," she murmured, making Irithil smirk. Then she snorted. "Besides, I have Mother's hair, not _yours_."

"And Father's eyes," he murmured. "While I'm the reverse."

"Mm-hmm. And Irithil is just a copy of Father."

They all snorted at that.

Ethwan looked back at them after a moment spent gazing at the water. "Why did you tell me to go?" he asked at last.

"Because you aren't here, anyway," Irithil murmured. "Or you weren't."

"What?"

"You were with _her_, Ethwan, and we know it."

He lifted a brow, before shrugging with a slightly sheepish smile. "Well, I certainly won't deny it."

"Ah," Irithil murmured. "Look at that, little sister—an honest cad."

"I'm not a cad," Ethwan muttered, affronted.

"Just one of those eternally bachelor elves who shall never settle down, no matter how many elves you happen to flatter into your bed." Carathwan looked up at him for a moment from the flower she was drawing patterns on with her finger.

He frowned at her, faint distress in his eyes. "Do you really see me like that?"

"Yes. As Elladan, actually."

"Ah," Irithil murmured, smiling. "So you haven't seen him recently, have you?"

"Not since… oh, bother. When was that family gathering Elrond commanded?"

"Three months ago, Cara. You're behind. He's utterly besotted with one of the Mirkwood elves."

"Greenwood, you mean?"

"No," he denied, smiling impishly. "She insists it's Mirkwood—because that's what it was when she came here. One of Prince Legolas's old friends, I think… before the War of the Ring, if I'm right."

"So the old flirt finally found someone to hold him down?" she asked, smiling crookedly at the thought.

"Pin him down, is what I heard."

She laughed. "Thil, _I'm_ the she-elf here… isn't it _my_ place to know the gossip?"

He shrugged after giving up on feigning affront. "I just keep my ears open, baby sister."

"And eyes, if you've seen him. I certainly haven't, and he is Lunian's favorite uncle."

"Only because she only _has_ one uncle."

Carathwan shrugged. "Are you going to leave, Ethwan, or sit there looking impatient all day?"

"When the conversation is just now getting interesting?" he asked, looking up at Irithil. "_Have_ you seen him?"

"Yes, but only for a few minutes. He's apparently spending most of his time over there, now."

"It's not that far a walk," Carathwan murmured. "After all, Lunian and Legolas travel it practically daily."

"I heard my name," a voice rang out. Lunian appeared between the trees with a smile, until she saw the three sprawled out around the remains of lunch. "Oh… I'll see you for dinner."

"Naw, come on and join us," Ethwan murmured.

"But this is—"

"Yeah, but come on. You're practically a sister, anyway," Irithil agreed.

"And it's not like this is the first 'sibling lunch' you'll have been at," Carathwan added.

With a laugh Lunian gave in, folding her legs beneath her. "What did I interrupt?"

"Discussing Elladan, actually, and Ethwan's likeness to him."

Lunian chuckled low in her throat and lifted her chin, letting the sun tint her entire face with light. "Ah, dear Ladan," she murmured, still decidedly amused. "What about him?"

"You could probably tell us better than he could," Carathwan murmured.

"Hmm," she agreed. "But isn't that something like showing you his underwear… with him in it?"

"_What?"_ Ethwan asked, brows screwed up.

Carathwan giggled at him, but nodded slightly at Lunian. "But you've likely seen more of him than we have. In fact, I'd be quite surprised if you hadn't seen him."

"I've not seen much of him, actually," she admitted. Her lips turned up in a wicked smile. "He's been a bit… _busy_."

"Oh!" Carathwan sat up, drawing her knees under her. "What's she like?"

Lunian lifted a brow. "Someone's been talking."

"Obviously," Ethwan countered. "As that's what you walked in on."

"Doesn't walking in on something imply there is somewhere to walk _in_?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Enough," he sighed, chuckling softly. "Irithil is the local gossip gatherer."

Lunian quirked a brow at Irithil. "Oh?"

He shrugged. "Rumor has it that he's been spending a lot of time with a Mirkwood elf… and is somewhat enamored of her."

She smiled faintly, but shook her head. "He is _very_ interested, but not yet enamored. As for her…" she laughed. "He has his work cut out for him."

"Why is he bothering, then? He tends to be interested in the mild challenges."

"Usually," Lunian agreed. "But she caught his attention so spectacularly that he isn't thinking rationally. He wants to know more, and doesn't really care that it isn't like him. I doubt he even thinks about it like that."

"Like what?"

"As a conquest," Lunian answered, her nose wrinkling at the term. "She interests him greatly, and though to say he isn't aware of her in such a way as he is usually interested in she-elves would be extraordinarily naïve, he isn't…" she sighed, frowning. "He isn't maneuvering her, isn't playing her. He is being genuine with her, trying to befriend her, to learn about her… though his past is working against him greatly, as she is so cautious even in shooting with him."

"Shooting?" Ethwan asked softly.

Lunian laughed. "Yes. That's how they met, actually. She shot him."

"_What?"_

She laughed again. "Just as I did, only instead of the calf, she caught his shoulder." She smiled crookedly, and shook her head. "I have to wonder if he yowled half as loudly as he did when I shot him."

"Lunian, when did you… oh. Before?"

She nodded. "Yes. Long—at least in a human life-time—before the war. I wasn't even fourteen."

"Why was he trying to teach you so young?"

"Father wanted me to be able to defend myself," she explained softly. "It was something most learned at least a little of. After I shot Ladan, Estel began teaching me swordplay when he was home."

Ethwan shook his head slightly, and looked slightly away.

Lunian sighed. "Ethwan… please stop doing that."

"Doing what?" he asked, glancing back.

"You can't deny I was once human, once lived on the other shores. _I_ cannot deny it—I am not who I was, and never will be again."

"It was a short time."

"But it was very important, and filled with love and laughter, pain and torment. I lived more there than I did here, really."

Ethwan looked away, still not agreeing, which made Lunian sigh softly, shaking her head.

Carathwan studied her for a moment. "Glorfindel said you were adult well before you were even thirty."

Lunian grimaced. "Yes."

Carathwan's eyes narrowed slightly on her. "How old _were_ you?"

"Twenty," Lunian admitted after a sigh.

"Twenty? _Twenty?_"

Lunian nodded. "I was mortal, Cara," she reminded. "Women of my age usually had a few children by then."

"But women of your age weren't usually half-elven, raised among elves."

"True," she admitted. "And they didn't usually have to deal with the despondency of fading powers," she added dryly.

"What?"

"It was not… pleasant in Imladris when Arwen refused to go west. It took Elrond weeks to talk to her. He seemed rather defeated after she and Estel wed, never quite the same. Even now, he isn't as he was before she chose mortality." She frowned slightly, and nibbled her lower lip.

"Careful," Carathwan murmured dryly. When Lunian glanced up, Carathwan smiled. "You might call Legolas to you."

Lunian smiled faintly, shaking her head. "No. He's already made sure I'm alright."

"What?" Irithil asked.

"You can talk to each other with your minds?" Ethwan asked.

"Of course," she agreed. "Even when I was human, there was something of a bond between us. We could always find each other… and he could _occasionally_ pick up on my emotions. That's far stronger now, of course."

"Oh, of course," Ethwan agreed, rolling his eyes.

Lunian laughed, sobering as she stared blindly into the wood. She smiled faintly. "I've thought of something I should really be doing, so if you would excuse me?"

Carathwan frowned as Lunian left, then got to her feet and trotted after her. "Lunian?"

"Grandmother and Grandfather are having a celebration in a few weeks."

"And?"

"And I think it might be nice for them to have the book then."

Carathwan frowned for a moment, before her eyes widened. "Oh."

"Yes, _oh_," Lunian agreed.

"But… are you done?"

"Not in the least… and I would like to give it to my parents, as well, as they didn't see much of my past life."

"So you're going to redraw a lot of it?"

"Not all that much, Cara. I can leave the more intimate pictures of Legolas out, for the most part, though it would be a glaring omission to discard him entirely."

"I'm sure he would agree," Carathwan laughed softly.

Lunian chuckled. "Yes."

Carathwan tilted her head as she followed Lunian into her old room. It was mostly unchanged, except for the quiver by the door, the rack that held bows, a Mirkwood inspired tapestry over the fireplace. There was also a pair of leggings tossed on the bed, which wasn't made, the covers piled in the middle in a haphazard heap.

Against one wall were the boxes of drawings Lunian had made when she was still trying to remember her past life.

With a faint snort, Carathwan shook her head. "How can I help?"


	6. Arguments

Sorry this is so late. My only excuse is being busy and a bit sick. Two tests, and exam, and two labs along with work.

I'll try to get the next chapter out in a more timely fashion.

I noticed that one of my updates (the little read or little liked addition to A Momment in Immortal Time) was missing a fair chunk out of the middle. I do plan to fix that (later), but the main thing is I don't have the time right now to reread everything, and I obviously won't know with this chapter that everything is alright. If you notice a sudden break in a sentance that makes absolutely no sense (for example, the break invented the word butack in 'Welcome Home', and took him from openingthe door to drying his hair), PLEASE let me know so I can correct it as soon as I have some free time.

All that said, thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Iluvenis: I was trying to make you read more into their interactions than I usually do, but it's still been very subtle thus far. It'll get a bit more obvious soon, I think.

LJP: Not really, no. Just a little mention. I think I killed that in KotS.

Animir: All better now? The book is just a tying up of what Lunian used to help herself remember without driving everyone nutters.

* * *

_**Chapter 6 Arguments**_

Carathwan frowned when a soft knock came on her door. She set her book aside, stretching as she walked to the door. "Yes?" she asked, opening it. She smiled on seeing who it was. "Luthier."

"Good evening, Carathwan. I hoped you would allow me to escort you to the hall."

"Certainly," she agreed. She hooked her arm through his when it was offered, but diverted him to the side-door she was accustomed to using.

When he hesitated a few steps from the door, she suddenly understood, and mentally rolled her eyes.

"Would you care to sit with us?" she asked, finding her brothers where they usually were. Alothie was there, sitting between them, her ears flaming through her dark hair.

Luthier eyed her brothers for a moment before seeming to gather himself. He offered her a faintly shaky smile. "Delighted," he managed, voice a little tight.

Oh, Valar. She mentally laughed at his squeamishness and led him over to the table, stopping across from Alothie. "Good evening," she murmured.

"Good evening, Carathwan," she returned quietly, looking curiously at Luthier.

Carathwan had a moment of insight, and hesitated. Then she nudged Luthier towards the other side of her chair, sitting in front of the other female. "How has your archery progressed?" she asked.

"Oh…" Alothie flushed. "I'm not that good."

"Maybe you could do with a female teacher," Carathwan murmured. "I could help you, if you like."

Alothie hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. "I would like to learn, but I don't want to take up all of Ethwan's time."

Ethwan lifted a brow, slinging an arm around her waist. "Why not?"

Alothie flushed, looking down at her plate.

Carathwan decided she wouldn't last as long as previously guessed. "Are you ever going to learn, Irithil?"

"There's already two archers in the family," he countered lazily, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Luthier.

Feeling very much like she should have just sat with Luthier's family and friends, she sighed. "Alothie, do you know Luthier?"

The other elf smiled slightly, nodding. "Oh, yes," she agreed, sounding much more confident than usual.

"Oh?"

"Mm-hmm. We're second cousins," she agreed.

Carathwan relaxed slightly and smiled. "Well, isn't that interesting?" she murmured, unsure if she was being honest or lying through her teeth.

After the meal, Lunian showed up, a smile in greeting.

"Where's the Prince? Finally remove him from your hip?"

"Ethwan," Lunian scowled, placing her hands on her hips. "Do _honor_ me with a dance," she seethed, narrowed eyes warning the siblings that there was a blistering argument on the horizon.

Ethwan sighed. "Would you join me later, Alothie? After Lunian has her _duty_ dance with her friends."

Carathwan flinched, and watched the two storm into the dancers. "Glad I'm not stuck listening to them," she murmured at last.

"What… what's the problem?"

She rolled her eyes and smiled at Alothie. "He's annoyed that she was reborn, instead of just born, and can't accept that she had a life on the other shores. He wants to ignore it, go back to how things were. She, of course, wouldn't if she could, since it gave her back the one she loves."

"And now he tries to keep her at arm's length all the time," Irithil added. "And simply ignores her when she mentions anything that has to do with her past life."

"But…"

"It's not only incredibly stupid, but completely insensitive," Carathwan agreed. "That's my brother," she sighed, shaking her head. She searched the dancers for a moment, then sighed in relief. "Oh, good. They've taken it outside. Well, Irithil? Luthier? Who's going to dance with me?"

"I—" they both broke off and Irithil finally inclined his head slightly. Luthier cleared his throat and got to his feet. "Shall we?" he asked after another moment of hesitation. She accepted his hand, and gave a pointed glance at Alothie while Irithil was watching her.

He lifted a brow but looked at the elf sitting beside him, and sighed faintly. "Well, would you dance with me? We can switch off after a few, so you don't get stuck with me."

"You wouldn't mind being stuck with me?" she asked, lifting curious light blue eyes to his grey ones.

He smiled faintly. "Why would I mind? As long as you can dance, of course, and there isn't an elf who can't."

Carathwan smiled as Alothie accepted Irithil's hand.

"What are you plotting?"

She laughed. "Usually Lunian is the one who plots."

"But you've been around her most of your life. And I'm certain you're plotting something."

She chuckled softly, smiling up at him. "Yes, I am."

"And what is it?" he prompted when she didn't say anything.

She laughed quietly, watching her brother dancing with his kin. "They're well suited, I think."

He glanced at the pair as they moved. "But she's with Ethwan."

"It won't last."

"It certainly won't if you're setting her up with your eldest brother."

"I'm doing nothing."

"Oh? Then that quite pointed look?"

She grinned, glad that he'd gotten over his sudden nervousness around her brothers to become the bantering friend of old. "Was merely to remind him it was his obligation to dance with her, if she wished to dance."

"Obligation, indeed," he deadpanned.

She laughed again, shaking her head slightly as the music changed. "So, I gave a slight nudge, just so he would notice her."

"But she is still Ethwan's current elf."

"Yes," she agreed, somewhat bitterly. "But that won't last."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he is too… he isn't going to settle down anytime soon. The whole thing is seen as a game, one he enjoys playing. She is too quiet, too honest, too… innocent? Naïve? Well, she can't withstand him. It will be over soon. I think she's wits enough to break it off before he can hurt her. Once she does, Irithil becomes a possibility."

"Won't his relation to Ethwan be a problem?"

"You tell me," she mused. "You're her cousin."

"We aren't really close… at least, not in the last thousand years."

"She seemed relieved to see you," she countered quietly.

He sighed softly, and nodded. "As you said… it shall not last. She feels it, and I think it begins to frighten her."

"Then I shall have to help her find a base," she mused, with a thoughtful frown for a moment.

He shook his head with a slight smile and they fell to silence as they danced, though they both looked at Irithil and Alothie from time to time.

Suddenly a door from the gardens, which had been closed, flew open, smashing against the wall before bouncing back. Lunian stormed through, splitting the dancers apart without touching one. Not far behind her Ethwan fumed his way out of the hall, as well.

After glancing quickly at Irithil, who was stopping an uncertain Alothie from following Ethwan, she looked up at where Legolas, Glorfindel and Haldir had been discussing _something_ that had bored Lunian, and caught Glorfindel's eye.

He put a restraining hand on Legolas's arm when the prince would have gone after his wife.

"Do excuse me, Luthier."

"Of course," he agreed quietly, bringing her hand to his lips, brushing a feather-light kiss over her knuckles.

She smiled slightly, inclined her head, and hustled across the room to where Legolas and Glorfindel were having a low-toned argument. She touched Legolas's shoulder for a moment, making him jump. "I think she needs a friend at the moment, Legolas," she explained.

He swallowed, shifting the muscles of his shoulder as he hesitated. Finally he inclined his head slightly. "As you wish. However, if you don't—"

"Of course," she agreed quickly. "But it will be difficult if I take much longer."

"Are you sure you shouldn't wait a _little_ longer? She does have a temper at times," Glorfindel murmured.

"I'll wait for the sound of breaking vases to stop before entering," she assured him dryly. She rolled her eyes with a slight smile and fled the room.

She pressed her ear to the door of what had been Lunian's room, and was now also the prince's, when they were here, and waited for a moment. When there were no obvious sounds of fury, she opened the door, seeing Lunian curled up on the chair beside the window. She sighed softly as Lunian shuddered, and crossed the room, tugging Lunian to her feet, pushing her gently to the bed.

Lunian got in without a sound, but shook slightly once Carathwan was sitting beside her.

Carathwan propped herself up on her hand, leaning partly over Lunian, hugging her with her free arm, laying her cheek against Lunian's upper arm. She waited until Lunian stopped shaking, and sighed. "What did that idiot say?" she asked in resignation.

Lunian let out a choked laugh. "Nothing in particular."

"What was the gist of his ranting, then?"

Lunian sighed. "That if I'm not who I was, then he doesn't know me, and isn't my friend."

Carathwan shook her head. "You're the same _basic_ person. You've just… matured." She crinkled her nose at having used Glorfindel's insisted upon word, but damned if it didn't fit.

"Why can't he see that?" Lunian asked softly. "I… I knew he was hurt, that he was drawing away from me, but I…"

"Had other things to occupy your time than one idiot elf's inability to deal with history."

Lunian exhaled shakily. "He's allowed to feel I abandoned him."

"No, he's not, because you didn't. Yes, it took you months to get things figured out—"

"Nearly two years."

"A _very_ minimal time," Carathwan continued, ignoring the interruption, "compared to how long we've all been friends… and now that you've got them figured out, sorted in your mind, and you and your husband are just beginning to settle into a routine of traveling between your houses so you have more time to spend with your friends—be they past life or current one—he decides he wants what can never be."

Lunian sighed. "But… doesn't it bother you, Cara?"

"What? That you were alive there, that you were Legolas's lover? That you died there?"

"Well, yes… but also that I was human."

Carathwan closed her eyes. "No. I saw your eyes, Lunian. You, as Aragorn, were more elven than human."

"What of the rest, then?" Lunian asked after a long moment.

Carathwan laughed quietly. "No. It's a little disconcerting, to know suddenly that you're a few hundred years older than I thought, but you were always older than me, and you've always known more than me. I do not envy you knowing death, either."

"No one would," she murmured.

"I suppose not."

They fell quiet for a time, until Lunian drew a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh and stretch. "Thank you, Cara… how did you stop Legolas?"

"I caught Glorfindel's eye so _he_ could do the stopping."

Lunian snorted, before covering her mouth against a further laugh. "Oh, Cara," she giggled.

Carathwan smiled slightly, kissing Lunian's forehead as she got up. "He's probably pacing not far away, isn't he?"

Lunian was silent for a moment. "Yes. Glorfindel is still with him. Legolas and Haldir were trying to convince him to enter the trials."

"Oh. I—"

The door opened.

"Should be going," she finished.

"Good night, Cara," Lunian murmured, smiling slightly.

Carathwan nodded slightly and hadn't even made it to the door before Legolas was where she had just been, though his embrace was far more intimate. Glorfindel closed the door after her. "Thank you for holding him off, but I need to do something," she murmured, inclining her head shortly to him before storming down the halls. She threw the door she'd come to open, startling her brother. She grabbed the book he'd been reading and threw it across the room, before slapping him as hard as she could.

"Cara?" he asked, holding a hand to his cheek.

"While you've been in here reading, Lunian has been crying," she hissed.

"So you've taken her side, have you?" he snapped, moving to retrieve his book.

"There shouldn't be any sides, Ethwan. She isn't all that different."

"She's a _Princess_, Carathwan. That's a bit different than a Lady."

When he spoke like that, with that sneering tone she despised, she understood, suddenly, how someone could hate their own brother. "Yes, she's a _princess_. Because she has loved Legolas longer than we've been alive. He loved her soul when it was in a human body—would you deny him loving her now that she's an elf?"

"Carathwan, this has nothing—"

"It has everything to do with it! The only thing that's really different about her is her relationship with Legolas!"

"She's more than two hundred years older than she was two and a half years ago! Doesn't that bother you?"

"No!" she yelled right back, her hands clenched into fists. "Because she is _still_ Lunian, and she is _still_ the elf I went swimming with. The elf who ran for her father when I fell out of the tree by the pond and broke my arm. The elf who cheered me on at the amateur archery trials. The elf who snuck into my room after that argument we had with Father, bringing me the dinner I'd been denied and staying up with me all night just so I wouldn't be alone. The elf I've walked with in the woods and gardens so many times we could have seen the entire of the other shores, were we there. She is _still_ my best friend, the sister I never had. That she now has a lover and somewhat sadder eyes does not change any of that. Not for me, not for Irithil, not for Nallina. Not for any of her many acquaintances, relatives, or past friends. _You_ are the only one who seems to believe the 'old' Lunian all but died, and we're stuck with a human one." She glared at him for a long moment, then shook her head. "I love you, Ethwan, and I always will. I am more like Irithil, and so closer to him, but I do love you. I love her, too, though, and I believe you in the wrong. If you force sides to be taken, I will not stand with you. Do not expect anyone else to take my place."

Ethwan stared at her, but said nothing.

With a sigh she turned, swallowing to see Glorfindel standing in the open door. She met his bright eyes for a moment, then swept past him to her own room, closing her door firmly behind her, her chin never dropping a fraction.


	7. Trying to learn

Hi guys! I've managed to get this chapter up almost on time, because my horrible paper turned out easier to write than I expected, once I was actually ready to write it (going through research takes forever, and hardly seems worth it from a paper point of view).

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

LJP: I think there are around 16-17 total, so not that many, compared to most of my stories. She's pretty much mature enough, now, they just have to deal with a few things...

moonshine44(and anyone else who didn't read the earlier stories and finds themselves confused): Sorry about that. I kind of expected this would mostly interest only those who came because they liked The Worry Stone and The Keeper of the Stone and so came here. To sum those up far too briefly: Lunian was a half-elven mortal woman (able to sense the emotions of those around her) living in Imladris whom Legolas fell in love with. She was the daughter of the elf Elrohir loved, and so she was raised by him until he and most of Imladris went west, when she traveled to Mirkwood.When she died, he and Gimli wandered Middle-Earth for a while before heading west. In the second story, Lunian (having been reborn) remembers (slowly) her past life. This story is here mostly because of bits of chapters 27, 32 & 33 of the Keeper of the Stone, more specifically, the interaction between anupset Carathwan and a slightly calmer Glorfindel.

Awesome: I just have to ask... are you by any chance Tolkien's reincarnation? Because if not, I'm keeping my elves with their nicknames. I've read a lot of stories with nicknames, and I really don't think that children would always use the long-winded names given to them by their parents, especially when alone together. Some of the nicknames even an anti-nickname person gets stuck with here, anyway, because they came from Lunian's human childhood, where she couldn't always pronounce the elvish names. As for this being a Sue... No one has EVER been able to give ma a definition of what a Mary-Sue actually consists of. It seems to be something of an air-headed rabid fangirl who can just magically do everything and people fall in love with her left and right. So, thanks for the _lovely_ compliment. As for my writing being decent. Gee. Thanks. I've had things published in various places--this is my way to relax. I post my stories because sometimes other people like what I write. As for me continuing to write: I _always_ finish what I begin posting. I despise getting into a story only to have it suddenly die. I will most likely be writing (though not fanfiction) until I either die or have a stroke that affects one of the aphasia centers of the brain.

sharon: Yay! You're seeing exactly what you're supposed to be seeing. It's been kind of subtle, I know, which is why it's so nice to hear someone has picked up on it! (and cared enough to let me know that they had.)

Iluvenis: I've tried to find a happy medium between the two, and I just can't seem to. So, you're stuck with whatever comes about. There will be more of Legolas and Lunian, though the story focuses on Glorfindel and Carathwan.

Laurenke1: When I got your review I went back and glanced over previous chapters. Basically, they're already married-- Lunian calls him her husband, Ethwan calls her a princess instead of a lady...

* * *

_**Chapter 7 Trying to learn**_

Alothie looked up with wide eyes, her ears flushing with pleasure when Carathwan nodded in approval. "It's easier with you teaching me," she admitted.

"Well, I'm not only better than Ethwan, I'm female. We do things just slightly different."

Alothie shook her head. "Sometimes, _very_ different."

Carathwan smiled faintly.

"Sorry," Alothie murmured, looking away.

"Not your doing," Carathwan dismissed.

"But I still—"

"No. It's not your doing. It's his fault."

Alothie tilted her head slightly, her eyes growing sad. "You shouldn't let this stand between you forever, Carathwan."

"How can he expect me to chose between one sibling and another?" She shook her head slightly, getting to her feet. "You're doing very well," she praised quietly, picking up her book. She walked past Legolas and Lunian, who were calling light banter over the soft sound of their practice.

"Cara!" Lunian called, putting her bow aside to follow. "Cara, please talk to—"

"He can talk to _me_," she stated shortly, before closing her eyes on a sigh, turning to face Lunian. "I don't mean to snap. But it is his place to mend this breech."

"You could do it, too," Lunian murmured quietly.

Carathwan considered that for a long moment, and then shook her head. "I always have in the past, Lunian, and I know what would happen if I did so this time. I can't allow that this time." She smiled faintly at her friend. "Go back to your practice, Lunian. You two have to win the trials, right?"

Lunian wasn't fooled, of course, but let her go, traveling back into the long building.

Carathwan headed for the library, almost changing her mind when she saw who was there.

Glorfindel looked up from his book, inclined his head slightly to her, and went back to the page.

Ethwan glared at her for a moment, then lifted his chin. "Have something to say to me?" he asked.

If she tried to mend this as she had in the past, she would come away the loser. Every time _she_ broke first, he became a little more arrogant, a little more sure of her—of her inability to remain mad at him no matter what he did. "Not a thing," she denied quietly, looking up at the shelf that had held the book she'd finished. "Glorfindel?"

"Yes, Carathwan?" he asked, looking up once more.

"Are there any good books about Gondolin?"

His eyes clouded slightly. "I'm sure there are, but I've not read any."

She looked at the book he held, and smiled faintly. "An adventure novel?" she asked, teasingly. "Haven't you had enough of that in your lives?"

He quirked a faint smile, and partially shrugged. "When it isn't real it's easy to deal with. The elf who wrote this never saw battle, and was more interested in how people or peoples interacted. It is an interesting insight into the workings of the heart and mind."

"Is it really, or is that just the excuse you give yourself?"

His smile grew faintly. "Elrond once asked me that."

"Did you answer him, or evade the question as you are so fond of doing to me?"

He chuckled softly. "I think we were interrupted by Estel's arrival. At any rate, it doesn't really matter, as my excuse could work just as well for you, should you care to employ it."

"Why would I?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

He lifted a brow. "You were asking me for a recommendation, were you not?"

"Well, I…"

"Give it a try," he murmured, closing the book, holding it out.

"But you're in the middle of it."

"I've read it several times, Carathwan."

"So it must be very… _insightful_."

He smiled at her tease, but shrugged gracefully, settling back in his chair when she took the book, tracing the words on the cover with a slow finger. "What is it?" he asked with a slight frown.

"I've been reading about the other places for so long… I can't remember the last time I read something like this."

His bright eyes watched her for a long moment, before closing as he tilted his head back, eyes made into hollows by the shadows cast by the dim candlelight. Those same shadows clung to his cheeks, giving his face a skull-like appearance that frightened her a little. "Then it is high time you did so. The architecture of Gondolin, Imladris, Eryn Lasgalen, or Lothlorien do you no good here."

"And reading a story of fiction may?" she countered.

He righted his head, his features elven once more. "You can learn much by seeing through the eyes of others."

She shook her head slightly. "I have been trying."

"Too hard," he murmured.

She looked at him silently for a long moment, trying to read his eyes to no avail. For the first time she wished to know what he was feeling as Lunian would know. "Tell me," she murmured at length. "Will this book open those which are closed?"

His eyes widened, and he blinked in shock. Then he snorted a short laugh. "Carathwan, books that have been closed for millennia are destroyed upon opening."

"Unless they've been rewritten," she countered softly.

He shook his head slightly. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"But I am trying to learn."

A faint smile touched his lips for her earnest response. "But you haven't managed yet."

"And when I have?"

"Then, you will have no need to ask," he murmured softly, before stretching out his arm, pulling another book from the shelf.

It was by the same author. "Like her stories, do you?"

He quirked a brow. "Give it a try," he coaxed softly. "You might like them as well."

She looked down at the book, and finally nodded. "Have you decided if you will enter the trials?"

"No."

"No, you haven't decided, or no, you're not entering the trials?"

"No, I haven't fully decided. If I don't enter that's one less serious competitor against Lunian."

"She would not have anyone fail to compete for such a reason as that," Lunian protested.

He smiled faintly. "I know. But it is still fact."

"But you enjoy fiction."

He quirked a brow, and blinked. "I honestly don't know what to do with that."

She rolled her eyes. "Lunian would not want to win _because_ you didn't enter." Then she smirked. "She would much rather win _in spite_ of you entering."

He chuckled softly. "Do you think she could stand against me?"

"No. But Legolas can, and ever stands with her."

He smiled slightly, and inclined his head, accepting her statement.

"So?"

He lifted a brow.

She rolled her eyes again. "Are you going to compete?"

"Why do you want to know?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Because I've been sent to spy on the competition, of course," she retorted dryly.

"Well, in that case…" A small line appeared between his brows as he thought. "I suppose I may as well," he declared at last.

"Good. Go tell Orthalen before he declares the slots filled."

"If they're filled, they're filled," he replied wryly.

"Yes, but if you tell him before they're filled, you'll have a place."

"That goes without saying."

"Then why did you make me say it?" she asked.

"I doubt very much that anyone could make you say anything."

Her eyes fell from his and she stared blindly at the shelves. "I don't."

He frowned slightly. "Carathwan?"

She took a moment for silence, then shook herself, smiling faintly at him. "I'll give the book a try… but I plan to study it carefully."

"Why should you 'study' it at all?"

"To find out if there really is anything of intrinsic value between the pages, or if you like reading these books just to be reading something light and fluffy."

"Light and fluffy?" he asked, brows lifting. "You'll revise your opinion of that quite quickly, especially with that particular one."

"Oh?"

"Mm-hmm. Four rather gory deaths in the first ten pages. Not at some _point_ in those ten pages, but _during_ those ten pages."

She swallowed. "She describes people dying for ten pages?"

"Or more," he smirked.

She glanced warily at the book. "I thought you said she hadn't seen battle?"

"She hasn't."

"Then…"

"There is a difference between seeing battle, and seeing death, Carathwan, though for her writing I don't make such a distinction."

"Why would you want to read such? Haven't you seen enough of it?"

"Read it, Carathwan, and see if you can figure the answer out yourself," he murmured softly, opening the book he'd retrieved to the first page. "Well?"

"Well, I'm waiting for you to go to Orthalen."

He rolled his head back with a groan. "Persistent creature."

"And you aren't?"

He chuckled softly, but got to his feet, guiding her out with a whisper of touch at the small of her back. If he noted that she didn't look in Ethwan's direction, he didn't say anything.


	8. Disarm me no further

Hi guys. New chapter! (Obviously). Sorry, I'm a little down today. Too much to do and I don't feel like doing any of it.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, of course. Reviews make my day, most of the time.

Iluvenis: I think for the most part (save one scene or two, which won't be most of the chapter...) Lunian and Legolas are in the story from here mostly as friends alone. A little cutsy cuddling here and there, perhaps. Anyway... You've sort of got your closeness here. If you're confused about something, ask me about it if you'd like an explanation. Sometimes I won't be able to do more than hint, but I'll try to clear things up.

LJP: I wasn't trying to make him come across as superior so much as distant and a bit hesitant. Guess it didn't work. He is greatly aware of the gap in their years, more because he feels himself too old and broken for a vibrant young spirit. Agnh... whatever. Maybe this chapter clears their relationship up a bit. Maybe. I'm too tired to tell.

* * *

**_Chapter 8 Disarm me no further_**

"Cara, are you sure you shouldn't be talking to Ethwan right now?" Luthier asked hesitantly.

She rolled her eyes. "Luthier! You of all elves!"

"What?"

"I _will not_ talk to him first!"

"Why not?"

"Because every time I talk to him first, I end up feeling like I'm the one who compromised. I _will not_ compromise on this. It's too important."

"More important than your relationship with one of your brothers?" he asked.

She set her wine down with a dull thud, and got to her feet. "Yes. Because it's not about the argument so much as it is about his treatment of Lunian. If elves can _kill_ for something as foolish as a stone, crafted by other elves, then why not remain silent for an argument over the mistreatment of one who is as dear as blood?" She whirled around, striding quickly from the hall, steaming her way through the gardens.

After a few turns she noticed she was being watched. Bright eyes watched her slow to a stop without any emotion showing.

"Let me guess," she snarled. "You think I should talk to him, too?"

He shook his head slightly. "I don't know enough about it."

"You probably heard every damned word of our argument."

"Yes," he admitted, completely unabashed at admitting to his eavesdropping. "But that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean? What else could you possibly need to know to tell me that my brother is a stubborn idiot of an elf who will probably never apologize to Lunian, and never speak to me again?" To her horror, the tears she'd held at bay in every other argument about her confrontation with her brother appeared at the edges of her eyes as she looked up at him. She turned quickly aside, brushing angrily at her betraying tears.

He sighed softly, catching her chin in his hand, tilting her head up again, brushing gently at the moisture her rough movements had missed. "That you know that tells me what I didn't."

"Oh?" she laughed shakily. "Then what would _you_ have me do?"

"Apologize—"

"No!" she yelped, jumping back so quickly she tripped over one of the border stones.

He caught her before she could fall, righting her without comment. "Apologize for striking him, Carathwan. _That_ you should not have done." His hands dropped from her arms.

"Maybe not," she agreed after a moment. "But he's so damned stubborn, so cocky, so full of himself at times that it was the only thing I could think of to get his attention. Throwing his book across the room didn't work."

"You _threw_ his book?"

She snorted at his shock. "You weren't there for that part?"

"I heard you slap him."

She looked up, and slowly shook her head when she understood. "He would not strike me."

"The same can't be said for you."

She sighed, and bowed her head. "So you came to berate me?" she asked softly.

Fingers curled under her chin, lifting it. "No," he countered quietly. "Merely to ask how your reading has gone."

She managed a faint smile as a bit of odd humor caught her. "Better than Ethwan's."

He shook his head slightly. "Carathwan."

"Findel?"

"If you shorten my name, expect me to shorten yours."

"I'm quite used to it."

He lifted a brow.

She smiled faintly. "Well… it was definitely different than I'm used to."

"In a good or bad way?" he asked dryly.

"In a… _different_ way."

He rolled his eyes. "Did you like it?"

"I… did," she agreed.

"You hesitate," he warned, lifting a brow.

She smiled. "Yes… because I wasn't entirely sure what to make of it."

He blinked at her, before his golden brows drew together in a strict frown. "The story was quite straight forward, Carathwan."

"Yes. Which surprised me. There were few convolutions, few plot twists—the main characters stumbled through their journey mostly by dumb luck, completed it successfully, the bad guy was killed—without them actually lifting a finger to do it… and then they head back home where all of a sudden they're kissing." She shook her head. "It wasn't a _bad_ story…"

"But?" he asked, resignedly.

"It was well-written, despite the obvious flaws…"

"But?" he repeated pointedly.

She laughed. "But I don't understand why, out of everything you've likely read, you would suggest something so juvenile… so idealistic."

"Because it _is_ so idealistic, Carathwan. It is nice to simply escape into a world where things don't constantly go wrong, where the heroes and heroines don't die fighting, or in worse ways. Where they don't have to kill to complete their quest."

"Where everyone ends up happy, innocent, untainted?" she suggested, frowning slightly at him.

"It is nice, is it not?"

Her frown deepened. "It…" finally she shook her head. "It is my _life_, Glorfindel. I can understand someone whose life has been harder enjoying such a refuge, but my life has been too…" she grimaced. "Happy, innocent, untainted," she parroted. "While it is no doubt _nice_… it holds little pull for me."

"So you want a life of danger?"

She shook her head. "No. I wouldn't be suited for it."

"Why would you think that?"

She laughed shortly. "I _know_ it. I wouldn't survive there, would I?"

He studied her for a long moment. "Not as you are now, no."

"No. I would be changed, I'd be harsher, colder… touched by the darkness that yet has a hold on you. Seeing it in your eyes when you forget to make them blank is enough for me. I'll take my books of design any day."

He looked at her for a long moment, then sighed and glanced away. "Would you have tales of intrigue, then? Mysteries craftily solved, intricate knots cunningly unraveled?"

"If I were to read such, then… yes. I suppose so. Having things laid out, exposed in the midday sun, is a bit much."

"A fundamental difference between us."

"I don't think so."

"No?" he glanced at her for a moment. "Why not?"

"Experience is the difference, Findel. I haven't had it. You have. You prefer things to be simple, clean, because that way they can't surprise you, can't hurt you. I've not been so affected, so I am still naïve enough to enjoy the puzzle, the excitement of riddles and the mystery of exploration."

"And now you seek to unravel me?"

She tilted her head slightly, looking up at him from under her lashes as they walked. "I am not the one who seeks you out, Glorfindel."

His hands tensed slightly for a moment, before relaxing. A rueful smile touched his lips, and he briefly shook his head.

"What is it?" she asked, pausing.

He shook his head once more. "Enough for now—disarm me no further."

"Isn't that the point of such sparring?"

She knew she had pressed too far when he looked at her, then took a half-step back. "Then I will yield the match."

With a shake of her head, she reached out, lightly touching his sleeve. "I don't want you to."

"It's best that I do."

"Why?"

He blew out a harsh breath, and shook his head. "You know why."

"Because you're a lord, and I'm no one? Because you're Goldtress, Golden Glorfindel, Chief of the house of the Golden Flower, a lord in a house of princes, of the destroyed Gondolin? Because you have seen the terrors that could keep me awake, had I any firsthand knowledge of them? Because you are the Balrog-Slayer? Because you played a part in great workings on the other shore? Because you died to save what remained of your people?"

He didn't look at her.

"Or is it because you're thousands of years my elder? Millennia beyond me in knowledge, wisdom, and experience?"

Still he said nothing, staring off into the distance.

She sighed. "Or perhaps it's me. Young, naïve, inexperienced…"

"You know it's not," he stated at last, his voice nothing more than a cracked whisper.

She looked at him for a long moment. "Yes," she agreed at long last. "I know what it's _not_… but I've not yet found the book that can tell me what it _is_."

Slowly, after a long moment of nothing, he shook his head. "It is in no book."

"I know."

He met her eyes, and hesitantly reached up, gently touching her cheek. "All the titles, all the honors… are _nothing_. All I am is a broken warrior, old enough by far to be your great-grandfather."

"What is age to the elves?"

"I do not speak of years, Carathwan." He turned a bit, slowly walking away.

"When did you ever?"

He stilled for a moment, his head bowing slightly, before he continued, leaving her alone in the heart of the garden.


	9. No one to dance with

Okay, like I said before (for those of you who don't read With Invisible Chains) if I update roughly every five days, I won't leave you hanging over the summer. So if I leave off too long, you'll have to bug me. I only have two major papers and four tests and two finals in the meantime.

And because I've been so totally brain-drained in the last few days, I'll apologize now if I've missed some glaring mistake in grammer/spelling/etc. below. I don't think I have, but then I never do, and the mistakes are still there.

Thanks to those who read/reviewed!

eyes of sky: I don't know why it is--it happens to me, sometimes, too. I've found that if I page through chapters until the update date has changed to today's date, then the chapter appears. (But that could just be this network).

LJP: You've got them down exactly--and I completely agree. She won.

Iluvenis: What do you want to know why for? Glad you liked it... this chapter, though, is a little bit less on 'romance track' compared to some others. Shrugs. Carathwan does feel as he does. But she's allowed to be a bit hesitant, considering how hesitant he is.

Alatarial Elf: I suppose it was sort of depressing. I didn't really notice it at the time, because it is, at the same time, a huge step forward for them but also a step or two back. Carathwan is a little over a thousand years old. She was born after (by a few centuries) the general movement into the West of Lothlorien and Imladris. In my stories (at least so far) I've randomly assigned a thousand as officially 'adult' for the elves. So she's kind of like a just turned eighteen-year old; confident in many ways but still not quite sure of herself around more settled, sure of their place adults.

* * *

**_Chapter 9 No one to dance with_**

The clouds had been most obliging, she reflected. They'd kept her mind off her reason for being up here for hours before someone disturbed her.

"Cara! Come down, it's time for lunch!"

She shook her head slightly, not caring if he could see the gesture or not. After three months of not speaking to her except to ask if she 'had something to say' to him she wasn't about to be called in like a wayward pet.

She had felt better about the whole thing after apologizing for striking him.

Her eyes hardened as she remembered the smug look on his face when she'd said she was sorry.

"_I'm sorry for striking you," she continued. _

_He waited for a moment, then motioned with his hand. "And?"_

"_And nothing," she murmured, shrugging a shoulder as she held his gaze. "I am not sorry for a word I spoke, and I still believe each and every one." She turned and left him staring after her._

That had been almost three full weeks ago.

Suddenly her branch swayed more than it ever had because of the gentle breeze.

"Cara…"

She sighed, sitting up to look at him. "Yes, Ethwan?"

"You're still angry with me?"

"Are you still being childish about Lunian's remembered past?" she countered.

He sighed, leaning against the truck of the tree. "I… I think I can grow up," he admitted finally. He risked a look at her. "So… are you?"

"Yes. It took you _three_ _months_, Ethwan."

He shrugged slightly. "I kept thinking you would give in."

"I know."

He glanced up at her. "Why didn't you?"

"Because I couldn't."

"But—"

"No. If I gave in this time, it would have been standing with you against Lunian. The last few years have been by far hard enough on her, without throwing that into the rest."

"Hard? She's become—"

"Ethwan! She remembered she'd been a _human_, had been more or less abandoned by the elves who raised her, nearly raped by a human, shot her uncle, been shunned by the elves of Mirkwood until finally Legolas dragged her and a few others out of the wood, had to watch Arwen choose to die, had to see Aragorn's pain for her decision, nearly faded herself because of Elrohir's pain over Lenaith's attack and her birth, the years she spent trying to convince Legolas not to love her, then the endless energy she spent trying to give him hope enough to carry him _here_, so that they might one day be together again. She has, in the last few years, remembered a _very_ full life. One that was, in her words, ultimately happy. She remembered having to leave her love—having to die. In the past three years she's been through a _lot_ more than you _ever_ have."

Properly chastened, he lowered his eyes, remaining silent for a long while. Finally he sighed. "I'll apologize after dinner."

"They aren't here."

He blinked. "How do you know?"

"I just do," she muttered, not wanting to admit that had Lunian been there, she would have been up in the tree with them.

"Are you hungry?" he asked at length. "Maybe if you come down, Irithil would talk to me again."

"How is Alothie?" she asked quietly.

He blinked at her, then shook his head, rolling his eyes. "I don't know how you knew _that_."

"Because I helped it along."

"You _what?_"

She snorted. "Really, Ethwan, she wasn't at all right for you. Far too quiet, subdued. If you didn't run her ragged, she would have bored you. Irithil's a bit more like her. They're a good match."

He looked away, and finally shrugged. "So, why are you still up here? I've apologized."

"You aren't the reason I'm here, obviously," she muttered.

"Oh? I thought you only came here when…"

"When I need to think, or need to do anything other than think?" she offered.

"Luthier?" he asked, frowning savagely.

She snorted. "That isn't about to happen."

"No? You've been eating with him. Dancing with him."

"What else was I supposed to do? Irithil has been with Alothie's family. Lunian with Legolas. You not speaking to me. Should I have eaten in a corner? Retired to my room for the rest of time?"

"You can't play with him like that."

"I can't be like you, you mean?"

He winced under her glare. "He was your friend."

"And still is. I do not toy with him, Ethwan. He is a friend."

"And nothing more, you mean to say."

"And will say."

"When? When you've found someone else to dance with?"

Unconsciously, she sighed, her gaze drifting away.

"Valar," he breathed. "You _have_ found someone to dance with, haven't you?"

"No," she shook her head.

"Yes you have. Who is it?"

"I have found no one to dance with, Ethwan."

Her assured tones gave him pause. "Well," he murmured after a long moment. "Who would you _like_ to dance with, then?"

"Someone who shall never dance with me," she replied quietly. "Now please get down. My thinking tree doesn't work with someone else in it."

He frowned at her for a time, and then sighed, shrugging. "You'll be in for dinner?"

"Unless I grow blind," she agreed.

"I'll be out again if you aren't."

"No you won't."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you need to apologize to Lunian. That takes precedence over my eating habits."

"I suppose so," he agreed, sighing heavily. "I'm not looking forward to that."

"You shouldn't be, if I truly know about what you said to her."

"Oh?"

"Did you really make her think you considered her nothing more than a mere human, even now? Even after all these centuries of friendship?"

He sighed, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. He shook his head. "Maybe I should write a speech and just send it to her as a letter."

"Maybe you shouldn't keep putting off talking to her."

"But if Legolas is with her, I might get hacked to bits."

"Stop it," she scowled. "You know he won't."

"How do I know that?"

"Because you're her friend, and she loves you. He won't hurt you."

"He nearly shot Glorfindel, didn't he?"

"He fired a warning shot, keeping Glorfindel from reaching out to her."

"So, who's to say he wouldn't shoot me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Your actions, your words, have hurt her. He will wait to eviscerate you until you have apologized and made things better with her once more."

"Oh, _now_ I want to go talk to her."

She chuckled softly. "It's your own doing. I could have eviscerated you myself."

"I figured that when you slapped me, and looked at me as the elders do when they think of orcs."

She snorted. "I imagine so. I did hate you at that moment."

He looked at her, sorrow shading his eyes. "Can we go back?"

"Of course not."

He sighed.

"But we can go on."

He glanced at her, and slowly nodded, running a hand through his hair. He started to climb down, but paused, looking curiously at her. "When did you get so mature?"

"I've been taking lessons," she retorted dryly.

He frowned faintly but descended, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She snorted quietly, then sighed and laid down once more, stretching her arms out beyond her head, letting her hair fall from the branches supporting her head. She watched the clouds roll on for a while, and finally made herself _think_.

"Carathwan?"

She groaned softly. "What?" she called back down.

"Are you… okay?"

"No. Go on in without me."

"But…"

"Go, Lunian."

"Cara…"

She shook her head. "Lunian, there is nothing you can do, and nothing that can be said. Go and join the others."

Suddenly Lunian sighed. "What did he say?"

"You can—"

"Not _Ethwan_," Lunian interrupted impatiently. "What did Glorfindel say?"

Carathwan looked down so sharply she lost her balance. She tumbled from the branch, hearing her name from two places as the world sped closer. The impact knocked the wind from her, stunning her. She blinked slowly, the pain suddenly curling from her entire side, even as she struggled for breath. She needed to _move…_ needed to do _something_ to ease the pain.

She needed to _breathe_ and get off of her side.

"Cara!" Lunian called.

"She had the wind knocked out of her," the other voice murmured, before large hands turned her, easing her off of her side and onto her other one, pushing her knees a bit closer to her body, somehow helping ease the tightness in her chest.

She drew a deep breath shakily, but gratefully, as the dancing lights before her eyes began to fade as the world grew clear and crisp once more, even if it still seemed to be moving when it shouldn't.

"Nothing broken," he murmured, before the world moved once more.

She made a small sound of fear, and he stilled.

"Easy, Carathwan," he murmured.

She felt foolish for the fear, but she'd been moved far too quickly not long before, and the world still didn't feel quite right.

"Lunian!"

"Legolas!" she called back, turning her worried eyes to her prince.

"Are you alright? What hap—" he froze upon seeing Carathwan. "We'll get Elrond," he murmured, voice devoid of emotion, now that he knew it wasn't his wife who was injured, but rather someone she cared about… which did tend to make her a bit irrational. He drew Lunian away, despite her protests.

Glorfindel managed to open her door, and laid her upon the covers, brushing her hair back. "How could you _fall_ out of a tree?"

"It's happened before."

"When?"

"The last time… I was twenty," she admitted. "Though I was ten when I broke my arm."

He sighed, sitting in her chair, lifting a weary hand to his brow. "Why were you up there?"

She looked at him for a long moment. "You know why."

"Ethwan?" he asked, knowing the answer.

She closed her eyes without bothering to shake her head and drew a cautious breath before the door opened. She looked up at Lord Elrond, who glanced curiously at Glorfindel before feeling her injured arm and leg, then shifting her gently to feel her side.

She clenched her jaw tightly, closing her eyes, unable to stop a few tears escaping. A palm slid against hers, making her eyes open. She looked into bright, troubled eyes and carefully exhaled, watching him as Elrond prodded her.

An herbal scent filled the air, before a warm mixture was smoothed over her bruised bits, making her clothing cling tackily to her body, and making her lids heavy. "Lord Elrond…"

"Rest, child," he murmured.

Her last thought before her lids drifted closed once more was; "I'm not a child."


	10. Persistent creature

Hi! Alright, I know it's late, but it's still within my five day range.

Just be glad it's here at all--things have been busy/annoying today.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Iluvenis: Sorry if things aren't clear/mushy enough. Like I said at the beginning, I tried a slightly different writing style on this story--it's a bit more subtle and intuitive rather than bashing heads in with the obvious. Maybe this chapter will give you a little more insight into what Glorfindel was feeling when she fell... If not, let me know, and I can explain a bit.

LJP: I don't have time at the moment to go back and see exactly how much time (somewhere around 2 1/2 months, if I'm remembering right). The trials are ahead, and Carathwan isn't going to be a part of them. Glorfindel, Haldir, Legolas and Lunian, however, are.

Alatarial Elf: Three months have passed since Carathwan got into the argument with Ethwan. Lunian and Legolas walk either daily or every other day or so between the house of Thranduil and the house of Elrond. They may even make the journey twice--it's not that long, even by foot, so it's not that troubling for them to do, though it would eventually get boring/annoying. They're still newlyweds, though, and trying to work out the kinks.

I think that covers all questions.

On to the story!

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**_Chapter 10 Persistent creature_**

Carathwan hesitated outside the large, ornate door.

He had looked positively splendid, dressed in armor like that which he had worn…

When he died.

She shivered at the thought and rested her forehead against the wood, closing her eyes.

He had looked splendid, yes.

Glorious.

Magnificent.

Strong.

Beautiful.

Wise.

Powerful.

Every inch the commanding Chief of the House of the Golden Flower, the Lord in a house of princes.

Every inch the Balrog-Slayer.

The Golden Glorfindel.

The beloved hero of Gondolin.

And she had not known him.

The quiet elf she had somehow gotten to know through barbed conversations and twisted advances was not the elf she had seen today.

That elf was a hero among heroes, one who would forever be set apart as somehow _superelven_ even amidst the great feats of the others.

And all because he had killed a Balrog.

They didn't see him.

Not as she had seen him.

They hadn't seen what she had seen.

They weren't worried about him.

They didn't suddenly understand something…

Something she knew she should have known from the day he insisted Lunian remember her own death.

With a shaky breath, she opened the door, stepping inside.

The splendid golden armor was set on a chair, on the table, gently, carefully placed, every piece.

If it had been her, she would have tossed it all.

He was lying on the bed, one arm cast over his eyes, head turned away from the door, as if he could no longer bear to see the world that made him into something he didn't believe himself to be.

She looked at the fire in the hearth, then slowly approached the bed, sitting on the edge.

He looked sharply over, his finger reaching under the pillow. He stilled when he saw her.

"You keep a dagger at the headboard?" she asked, before snorting. "And here I assured Lunian that Legolas was unusually paranoid."

He blinked. "What are you doing here?"

"Seeing you."

He shook his head slightly. "Why are you here?"

"To see you."

He frowned. "Why?"

"I wanted to be sure you were alright."

He snorted, shaking his head, resting his forearm over his eyes once more. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Are you ever?"

He moved his arm, peering out at her. "What are you on about?" he sighed.

She echoed the noise, and looked back at the gleaming armor. "Why do you have it, anyway? I know you can't have _wanted_ it."

"What?"

"The armor."

"It was… _gifted_ to me. In recognition of my… _heroics_."

She shook her head. "Are they all so blind?"

He glanced sharply at her. "What?"

"You don't want it. It's not who you are."

He blinked a few times, then let out a long breath. "They want to see heroes."

"So they make them where they can. Dress you up, parade you around."

"Sing songs of great deeds… when it was all a bloody mess."

"You killed a Balrog," she murmured quietly.

"Yes," he agreed softly. "And to this day I don't know _how_."

"A sword through his abdomen, according to the historians."

"Reading up on the fall of Gondolin, were you?" he asked quietly.

"No. On you."

He looked at her again, and slowly shook his head. "Carathwan…"

"You started this," she declared fiercely.

He closed his eyes. "I'm aware of that."

"What happened that day?" she went on, her voice quietly insistent.

"I died."

"Before that," she rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

He sighed, sitting up. "I remember what happened, Carathwan. It makes no difference."

"It does to me. I want to know the truth."

"Why?"

"I want to know if you're a hero or a fool," she declared savagely.

He flinched, starting to look away from her, but that led his gaze to the flames. He shuddered, looking swiftly back at her. "I'll save you the trouble—I'm quite a fool, a fact that has only been reinforced over the years."

"Let me decide for myself. Isn't that what you wanted me to do?"

He looked at her silently for a long moment, and then sighed. Slowly, wearily, he nodded. "Persistent creature," he sighed once more. Then he turned from her, staring at a tapestry of Gondolin, his eyes clouding. "The beginning has no doubt been told well enough. I was leading my house, we were put in a trap, most were killed… eventually, after far too much fighting and death we were the rear guard for those who were yet alive, the she-elves, the children, those too infirm to fight, or to continue to fight. There was a Balrog behind us, orcs all around. We kept him back for a time…"

"But?"

He sighed. "But in his fury, his desire to annihilate us, he jumped onto the cliff wall, then past us all, right for the others. I…" he let out a breath which almost sounded like a laugh, but she imagined it closer to a sob. "I didn't think. I followed him. I'd been fighting for so long, I was already so weary…"

She bit her lip, having seen him spar. He was not one to tire easily.

"We grappled on the mountainside. I struck his shoulder, he grabbed me. I stabbed into his stomach… I'm not sure if anything else happened. All I know is he began to fall, and grabbed me by the hair. I fell, too."

She was silent for a long moment, then shook her head. "And?"

He flinched, moving a little bit more away from her. "And I was relieved it was over," he ground out at last.

She shook her head once more. "That's not it."

"Yes it is."

She waited until he glanced at her, and shook her head again. "No, it's not."

He snorted. "Well, if you know, why don't you tell me?"

"You haven't told Elrond. Your remaining friends from Gondolin, your friends from the other shores. You haven't told anyone… but Lunian has always known, hasn't she? It's why she was close to you as a child, there, and why she's grown close to you again. Because she doesn't push you, even though she knows, because of her gift to see emotions as easily as most see the colors of the dawn."

"Carathwan… I am tired of games."

She looked at the weary elf for a long moment. "As am I," she agreed, getting slowly to her feet. She moved until she was before him, until he had to either look at her or into those flames. "When shall you stop?"

He closed his eyes, at length, to avoid looking at her any longer. "I cannot."

"Yes you can."

"No," he shook his head. "You don't understand."

"Yes I do."

"You can't."

"Can't I?" She got up, moved over to the fire. "I saw you out there, today. Dressed as the revered hero, Golden Glorfindel," she murmured, her voice picking up the same cadence as the chants that had filled the air not long ago. "And I saw the hero. The elf who has been in stories and songs since long before I was born."

"Then what else is there to say?"

"I saw _him_, Findel… not _you._ You're stuck in here, with this—" she cast a hand towards the fire impatiently, turning suddenly to face him. "Stuck here, unable to move past your own death."

"Carathwan…"

She ignored the warning tone. "You started this, Glorfindel. You could have left it alone, could have ignored it… but you came after me. You approached, you persisted… and you won. But now that you have me, you don't know what to do. Having me is painful, isn't it, because you can't keep me as you did Lunian? I won't be held apart. I won't be silent. I _will_ press, I _will_ prod… until you can reach out—either for me to stop, or to stay. You _knew_ it would be this way when you first 'happened by' where Lunian and I were."

"You're wrong," he murmured, voice low as he got to his feet.

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"I don't think so."

"But it's true. You're wrong—I didn't have a choice."

"If you realize that, then you must understand that you can't expect me to back off now."

He sighed, looking away from her. "You don't really understand."

"I think I do."

"No," he shook his head. "How could you?"

She let out an exasperated noise and moved to the wash basin, picking up the pitcher of water, throwing it into the grate. The flames spluttered, hissed angrily, sent out billows of steam… and then died. "Because you made me grow up," she answered at last. "And you opened my eyes to many things."

His eyes were fixed on the grate, on the steaming logs. He jerked away when she touched his hair. "Carathwan," he growled.

"I am not a Balrog," she murmured softly.

After a long moment, he exhaled. "I know."

"But you still expect it, don't you? The burning, the pain. The smell of your armor melting into your skin, the stench of burning hair, burning flesh—your hair, your flesh. It comes back to you with every unwanted or unexpected touch. You can touch others, to a degree, but even then you brace yourself before you can, or you flinch ever so slightly away."

He tried to prove her wrong when she reached up again, but flinched slightly away despite his best efforts. He closed his eyes in defeat. "I know. I tried to warn you away…"

"When you knew it was too late," she finished. "You've been incredibly selfish, Findel."

Tormented eyes opened, gazing into her own. "I know… but I can't let you go. I do love you."

She nodded slightly, a tear sliding down her cheek. "I know." She drew a deep, shaking breath. "One small step at a time?"

He winced slightly. "I don't want to."

"If you don't, you'll lose me. I will not spend eternity with an elf who flinches from my presence."

"Not your presence, Carathwan."

"No," she countered grimly. "Just my touch."

He closed his eyes, pain settling on his fair features. "I am sorry, Carathwan." He raked a hand through his hair. "I… I know you look at Legolas and Lunian, and…"

She nodded slightly. "With some envy. They're so close—who wouldn't want such as that?"

"Besides me?" he asked, a bit shaky, a small bit of dry humor slipping into the tone anyway.

She shook her head. "No. Including you. You _do_ want that, you know. Why else would you have started this with me?"

After a long moment he nodded. "Yes. But I have been unable to do so for so long, Carathwan, that it has become habit."

"One we shall have to break."

"I don't think it will be so easy as that."

"I don't expect it to be easy. In fact," she sighed. "I rather expect I'll get fed up fairly often, and storm off. Learn from Ethwan's mistakes—give me a while to cool off, and then follow… or don't expect me to come back."

"You ask a lot."

"I know." She looked up at him with wide grey eyes. "So tell me now—do you want to do this, or shall you love me from afar as I search out someone else? Someone who can bear to touch others, who can be touched in turn without mental anguish—even if without obvious outward signs of pain?"

He took a deep breath, releasing it in a sigh as he looked down into her eyes. "Part of me that died long ago reaches for you. The rest of this shell called a hero cringes in cowardice."

"Who shall prevail?" she asked, watching him with fiery eyes.


	11. Now I frighten you

I nearly forgot that I have no time later today to upload chapters--you nearly didn't get one!

Oh, dear!

Anyway, thanks for the reviews, guys--they're appreciated.

Iluvenis: Well... There's not really much I can say. That's just not how this story was written. Sorry if it's troublesome, but all I could do to change any confusion would be to explain it, if you're unsure of something.

CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur: Well, not in so many words, but you're right, they've admitted it. And hold your horses--the race isn't over yet.

LJP: Thank you... At the moment I'm not making the connection as to what you were right about, but it could be inter-story confusion on my part.

J-girl3: Glad you like it! Yup, I read the Sil one day at my summer internship (obviously they had a lot for me to do).

Alatarial Elf: Hope I covered everything, and if you get confused again, just let me know--review or e-mail is fine.

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**_Chapter 11: Now I frighten you_**

She opened her eyes after a long moment, and turned her head to see him. Slowly she turned from her back onto her side, head resting on her arm. She watched the wind play in his hair, as it lightly lifted the strands for a moment before setting them down only to grab them again an instant later.

"What?"

"Just thinking."

"While staring at me?"

"Yes," she agreed.

He looked up at her, a faint frown touching his brows for a moment before he finally smiled slightly, shaking his head before turning to his book again. "Does it help?"

"Nope. Completely distracts me, rather."

"Then perhaps you should find something else to stare at."

"Or you could distract me with productive conversation, rather than merely saying anything to stop me from staring."

He sighed, but smiled slightly when she laughed. He set the book aside and leaned back against the trunk, his head angled oddly. "Like what?"

She frowned faintly, then sucked her cheek in, no doubt holding it firmly between her teeth.

He reached out, tugging a bit of her dark hair. "What is it?"

"I… I would like to try and figure out what bothers you more than not, and what isn't as bad."

"So you can begin pushing?" he sighed.

"So I know how to push, without pushing too far," she countered.

"You inadvertently shall."

"I know, but if I have an idea what I _can_ do, it's less likely, and it probably won't be as hard on you."

He looked into her earnest eyes for a moment, and closed his own, wondering when his self-mutilation tendencies had come about. "How do you propose 'figuring' this out?"

"Well, is it worse when you touch someone, or when they touch you?"

He unconsciously flinched. "When they touch me."

She nodded slightly.

"You already knew that."

"Yes. But at least you're admitting it."

"What have I to gain through denial?"

She smiled slightly and sat up. He groaned softly, closing his eyes at this sign of her insistence. "How bad was it when Lunian rested against your knees?"

"Not too bad."

"Against your chest?"

His chest tightened as it had then, and he absently lifted a hand to it. "Worse."

She sighed. "Glorfindel," she complained.

He echoed her. "Carathwan, my legs weren't burnt as badly before I died. I can stand touch there easiest. When she was against my chest it almost felt as though I was being held to him once more."

"Only almost?"

"Yes," he sighed. "It is never _as_ bad."

"Because you avoid touch lasting that long."

He inclined his head slightly.

She looked away, slowly drawing a tight breath. "Where is it the worst for someone else to touch you?"

"I don't know."

"You've avoided it that much?"

"Yes," he agreed harshly, looking away.

She closed her eyes. "What if I were to touch your cheek?"

His head snapped back around, eyes widening slightly.

"Or your hair?"

He flinched.

"Hair, then," she sighed. "It makes some sense, I suppose."

"Not really, since you don't _feel_ with your hair, and it was burned away the fastest."

She cringed slightly, _really_ not liking thinking about his death. That he had died was fine, since he had been returned, but to die in agonized flames was really something else. "So perhaps…"

"Perhaps?"

"Perhaps we should start with you."

"With me?" he echoed, lifting a brow. "What do you mean by _that_?"

"I mean, perhaps instead of me pushing you, you should try touching me."

"I have touched you. I was the one who carried you inside after you fell from your tree, after all."

"I know. Was that hard?"

He hesitated, then suddenly shook his head. "No." His voice was quiet.

"Why not?"

"Because… you were hurt. Your needs came before my fears."

"So if I had touched you then, you wouldn't have noticed?"

"I would have noticed," he murmured softly, his eyes still slightly widened from this revelation. "But…"

"But it may not have bothered you?"

He shrugged slightly after a moment of silence. "You're not going to fall out of another tree for us to find out."

She smiled faintly, shaking her head. "I know." She got up, picking his book up so she could take the place beside him, facing him, leaning back on her hand, the book on her lap.

"You aren't serious," he murmured.

"Quite."

"But…" he let out a noise and shook his head.

She touched his sleeve, careful not to adjust it so she was pressing into his skin. "Glorfindel," she murmured quietly. "I just want you to try. If you can't, then don't. But try—even one finger against mine without it hurting you is more than enough."

He looked down at her hand, resting over the book, and slowly reached out, his hand shaking a little bit harder the farther he went. When he was almost there, he pulled back. "It's different now."

"Because I'm making you think about it?"

"Yes. If I weren't thinking about it, just ignoring it, I could do it." He started to reach out, but she pulled back.

"No. That does you no good, and isn't fair to me."

He looked away from her, running a hand through his hair.

She looked away with a sigh, gazing out over the…

A smile suddenly formed on her lips. "Come with me." She got up, leaving the book.

"Carathwan?"

"Come on," she insisted, laughing softly at the most likely sheer stupidity of the idea. "Come willingly or I'll pull you by your sleeve," she warned. "Leave it here," she murmured, making him hesitantly drop the book. She walked to the water, and slowly stepped in.

"Carathwan? What _are_ you doing?"

"Getting in the pond."

"I see _that_. I just don't understand why."

"Come in," she murmured, turning to face him.

"Carathwan…"

"Come _on_, Findel."

"This is utterly absurd," he grumbled, removing his boots. She waited, rolling her eyes as he methodically removed his shirts, folding them, placing them on a flat stone near his boots. He removed the dagger from around his waist, placing it under his undershirt but over his tunic.

"Are you ready now?" she asked dryly, the water already nearly drawn up her thighs by her skirts.

"You're hardly dressed for a swim," he murmured, looking at her.

"And it's a bit late now to bother changing," she countered. "Now _do_ hurry up."

With a sigh he walked into the water, slowly approaching her.

Just as slowly, she backed away.

He frowned. "Carathwan? What are you doing?"

"Testing an idea," she shrugged, still not sure if this would be positively brilliant or a complete disaster. When he paused, looking at her warily, she sighed. "Please, Findel?"

He echoed her sigh and moved forward once more. "Have I ever told you what a persistent creature you are?"

She smiled faintly, still moving slightly back. She paused when the water lapped gently over her shoulders. "You're taller than I am, so you keep going a little."

He turned so he was still facing her as he moved a bit farther out.

"Stop!" she called, slowly moving towards him.

He looked down at her, blowing a breath out. "What is the point of this?" he asked.

She kept her eyes on his as she slowly reached out in answer, her fingers lightly touching his abdomen, charting the muscular ridges tentatively.

His muscles tensed beneath her touch, as if he braced himself, but his breath blew out suddenly, his eyes widening. "Water?" he spat furiously, his eyes narrowing darkly. "A little bit of _water_ and I'm fine?" he growled.

"No," she shook her head. "You're not _fine_, Glorfindel. But it is a start."

He made a low noise as she grew more bold, her palms sweeping up to his shoulders, then down his arms.

She started to pull back, but he shook his head, catching her wrists, setting her hands over his shoulders. They watched each other's eyes as he slowly reached up from the water, a streaming hand slowly settling on her cheek, staying there without moving.

He looked away from her eyes only to study his hand, the differences between the skin of his fingers and that of her cheek as he slowly arched his thumb along the soft skin he found there. A low noise escaped his throat when color stole into her ears, then slowly slipped down to stain her cheeks.

She flushed more deeply.

"What?" he asked, lifting a brow. He studied her for a moment when she simply blushed even harder, and let his head fall back on a groan as he made the most likely connection. "Lunian?" he asked, wry amusement escaping in the absent-elf's name.

"She…" Carathwan drew a deep breath. "She said she always loved it when Legolas purred…"

Glorfindel chuckled ruefully. "And you didn't understand?"

"I… still don't, not fully."

"Because you haven't surrendered," he mused, his voice thickening.

She shivered slightly, but nodded. "That is most likely the difference," she squeaked.

A small, decidedly _masculine_ smile turned his lips. "And now I frighten you."

She made an agreeing noise and nodded her head.

He chuckled, resting his temple against hers, relaxing with a sigh.

She watched the sky curiously for a moment, and then closed her eyes, letting the unfamiliar tension ease.


	12. Drowning in flame

Hi guys. Another update I nearly forgot about. And no one bugged me! And I know it's a little more Lunian/Legolas than Glorfindel/Carathwan, but this chapter had to happen sometime. Last in depth look into those two, honestly.

Thanks to all who reviewed, as ever. I greatly apreciate it!

eyes of sky: what kind of revisions (if you don't mind me asking)?

J-girl3: Did you get my e-mail about your Worry Stone questions/comments? If not, let me know, and I'll try to address them next chapter (If I remember). I usually have a general idea about where things are going when I write something. The water idea was all Carathwan's. ;-)

LJP: Well, I'm glad you liked the mush. More ahead.

Animir: It took me a little while to get into the swing of it, but once I did, I really enjoyed the style--saying everything without saying anything. It is more difficult to read, I know, and it was a little more involving to write, as well (never mind that I had to keep rereading parts of the first two Stone stories). It has been several months since the story's beginning and recent events. Their relationship was started in The Keeper of the Stone, though, and only really built on here. They didn't really say anything about it, but both knew that he didn't just 'happen by' where she was--he sought her out, and for this reason. So while they're only now growing more comfortable, more bold, they've been in an unofficial 'courtship' for a while now. Guess you couldn't get through to review WIC. Oh well. Thanks for letting me know you liked it, anyway. ;-). It's not generating much interest, sadly enough--I think it's one of my favorites of those I've posted.

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**_Chapter 12 Drowning in flame_**

"Afternoon, Findy, Cara."

Carathwan opened her eyes with a smile, gazing up at her friend. "Hello, Lunian. How goes the building?"

Lunian laughed. "I'd forgotten how irritating it is to have the building designed by someone who doesn't want what you do."

"Because you didn't deal with them _last_ time," Legolas reminded her, taking the tree trunk across from Carathwan's. A small smile tilted his lips to see Glorfindel, resting as he was with his head on Carathwan's legs.

Lunian's eyes were a bit more knowing, and clouded a bit at seeing how far down Carathwan's legs he'd settled, knowing he'd moved that far away so she couldn't touch him. "But we did get what we wanted," she mused.

"We weren't official, then," he countered, drawing her back between his legs.

She slumped against his chest, closing her eyes. "I don't care what our titles are. I am _not_ going to live in a monstrosity of a hall."

"Like Father?" he suggested dryly.

"That's different. He has more people there than we shall."

"Think ahead a bit, little one. In a few centuries…"

Her breath caught, fingers closing over his on her abdomen. "Children," she breathed, stomach tightening. Slowly her eyes opened. "So… a monstrosity of a hall, with cooks and laundresses, historians, librarians, musicians…" She groaned quietly. "Perhaps…"

"Yes?"

"Perhaps we should rethink this." She frowned. "Maybe we should just build a talan for now, love."

"Then choose one of the two places as a home base when we decide to have children?"

"No. We'll just change which place we're based at every few years. Once the children have reached a hundred or so they can decide which place they want to have their primary room—one for themselves, rather than a group children's room, which they could still use when visiting."

Legolas tilted his head slightly, then nodded. "It sounds plausible."

"And that way we don't have to deal with the whole big mess."

He chuckled softly. "I'll speak to Father."

"I suppose that leaves me Grandfather?" she sighed. "He is so _difficult_ at times."

"Because he misses you," Glorfindel murmured, opening an eye.

She rolled hers. "Findy, really. It's not like I'm that far away. Arwen went to Lothlorien for decades without visiting."

"And he regrets that."

She sighed. "It's quite different, Glorfindel. I go with my love, but _not_ to ultimately die."

He nodded slightly. "True. But he still misses you."

She groaned softly and gave up, curling against Legolas, hiding in his hair.

He chuckled softly, stroking her arm. After a little while spent in silence, he glanced up at Glorfindel. "Have you finally entered the trials?"

"Of course," he sighed. "You two are ready?"

"As we'll ever be," Lunian grumbled, shuddering.

"Lunian," Legolas sighed.

"I know, it's not like he's going to be there, not like someone is going to attack you _this_ time, but I can't help but remember…"

"Speaking of remembering," Glorfindel murmured, turning so he could see them. "Have you?"

She looked at him for a long time, before finally opening her lips. She wet them. "Your memories yet pain you."

"Yes," he admitted after a long pause.

"Then why would I wish to join you in that pain?"

"I don't think you will."

"My death was different than yours," she agreed at last. "But what if…"

"What if?" he prodded.

"What if it makes me shy from touch?"

Glorfindel closed his eyes, sitting up. "It won't, Lunian. Your fears are ungrounded."

"It has tortured you—the memory of his burning grasp."

"Yes."

"Stands in your way even now."

"I'm well aware."

She pressed on, feeling Legolas tense behind her as Glorfindel grew quietly angry. "Keeps you from acting, from holding Cara as you've been wanting to do for months."

Glorfindel saw Legolas blink, his eyes widening as he glanced at Lunian, before understanding and sympathy entered his gaze as he looked back at Glorfindel, then at Carathwan. Glorfindel glanced at her, saw her bright ears and darkening cheeks, and sighed. "Enough, Lunian. Stop attacking me because you don't want to remember."

She opened her mouth to protest, but closed it with a sigh. "Why would I want to remember?"

"Because you must. Your lives were building to that moment."

"How did you die, then?" she asked, glancing sharply at him. "I know you fell with the Balrog—as everyone knows I died of old age."

He sighed. "I died before we fell out of sight of the others."

"What?"

He closed his eyes. "He held me in his flame—I breathed it, and could never take another breath. I suffocated, even as I was burning, even as we fell." He shook his head slightly. "Drowning in flames."

"Not in the good way," Lunian murmured quietly, wringing a wry quirk of the lips from the two males. She took a shuddering breath, and closed her eyes.

Legolas's eyes suddenly widened, his hands tensing on her. "Love?"

"I want to remember without hurting you," she mused.

"I don't like not feeling you," he countered quietly.

"You still _sense_ me," she countered.

"Yes, but—"

"If I have to remember, seeing your past self will be plenty to deal with, I'm sure. I need you to be here, but if I have to, I'll remember alone."

He closed his eyes, shuddered, and shook his head. "All right," he agreed at long last, bending his head down beside hers.

She twined their fingers and closed her eyes once more. Her face grew grim, pain touching her features, her breathing becoming difficult.

Legolas took a few careful breaths, trying to keep his own memories of that horrible day at bay.

When she shuddered and turned to him, though, a silvery drop streaked down his cheek. She brushed it away, kissing him for a long moment before pulling back, setting her forehead against his. "I knew."

"Knew?"

"That you would have preferred death then, that you didn't allow it only to save me from seeing you die beside me… that it would have been a relief."

He sighed, closing his eyes. "I suppose I should have known you would, but…" he shook his head.

"I know," she agreed quietly, her fingers arching on his neck. "Did you put the leaves there for Mother?"

He let out a puff of air. "Yes," he sighed. "As Gimli filled in your grave. I… to place you in the earth was hard enough, but to cover you with it?" he shook his head.

She was silent for a long moment. "I wish I'd remembered in time to thank Gimli."

"Thank him?" he asked blankly. "For traveling with me?"

"That he did for himself. But he brought the shovel at my request, and I'm sure he set to work quietly while you were distracted."

He shuddered. "Thank you," he murmured.

She nodded. "I'm sure he agreed with me, even if he was annoyed that I had him along not for himself, but for you—so you wouldn't be alone, so you wouldn't have to dig my grave or fill it."

"I don't know, love. I was too lost to be aware of his feelings at the time, and we never spoke of your death once here."

"It would have been a bit odd, wouldn't it? As I was probably chasing Ethwan around the hall at the time."

A small smile touched his lips. "Or running after Elladan, climbing onto everyone's laps, racing around humming under your breath, laughing fit to shake the rafters…"

"Already getting interested in having children?" she asked, lifting a wry brow.

"I was _interested _in having children, love, when I considered you one the first time around."

"You'd best resign yourself to waiting a while."

He chuckled at her warning. "I've long been so resigned," he agreed, kissing her quickly.

She turned her head towards the halls with a slight frown.

"What?"

"Were you supposed to meet with Haldir?"

"No. Why?"

"Because he's coming," she explained.

Glorfindel and Legolas got up, glancing at each other. "Which way?"

Lunian pointed them in the right direction, then got to her feet as they left. She walked over to Carathwan, dropping down with a soft chuckle. "They're so easy to get rid of," she mused, resting her head on Carathwan's thigh.

Carathwan tilted her head. "Why'd you want them gone?" she asked quietly, absently pulling a bit of plant from Lunian's hair.

"Oh, Haldir really was heading in this direction. I think it was more a random choice than anything, because how would he know where we were unless someone told him?"

"And who would know where we randomly stopped wandering, save you?" Carathwan added, shaking her head. "So why did you want them gone?"

"I wanted to ask you if I could help."

Carathwan looked at her for a long moment, and slowly shook her head. "He is getting better."

"He can touch you?"

"Sometimes."

"Can you touch him?"

Slowly Carathwan shook her head. "Not unless we're in the pond."

Lunian blinked, and then chuckled. "It makes a weird sort of sense, I suppose. But you can't spend the rest of time in the pond."

"I know," she sighed.

Lunian closed her eyes, taking Carathwan's hand tightly between her own. "I'm always willing to listen."

"Always?" she asked dryly.

Lunian chuckled. "Well, I might be a bit annoyed at being interrupted, but Legolas and I have centuries of centuries. You and Glorfindel won't, unless you can get through this." She opened her eyes when Carathwan sighed. "Has he told you he loves you?"

"Yes."

She nodded slightly. "Have you told him you love him?"

"My presence is declaration enough."

After a moment, Lunian nodded. "I suppose it is, really."


	13. Don't touch me

Thanks to everyone who reviewed.

I have two papers and finals just around the corner, so responses have to be brief.

Iluvenis: Glad you picked up on that... I like that she didn't, but basically so it has more impact when she does. I'm just a little harrassed and harried at the moment. I've had a lot to do, including employee evaluations, which always bites, because giving a bad review just makes everyone feel bad.

Alatarial Elf: Yeah, she remembered. She died fairly quickly--it would only need a few minutes.

CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur: If she tried to grab a hold of him, he would probably freak out... but this chapter kind of explains that, so I'll stop there.

eyes of sky: What's that?

LJP: LOL, I hadn't really thought of it quite like that. But you're right.

* * *

_**Chapter 13 Don't touch me**_

The good natured argument over books came to a sudden halt when the hand Carathwan reached out to lightly touch his arm found itself suddenly a good foot from its intended destination. Her breath escaped her as if she had been struck, and she lifted large eyes to see his face was averted from her own.

She turned her head slightly and slowly began walking once more.

He fell into step beside her, quiet for a long moment before she felt him look at her. He drew a deep breath, then tilted his head back towards the stars. "I still say it is nice not to have such conflict."

"A lack of conflict would be lovely," she murmured shortly.

He glanced sharply at her for her sudden turn-around, and closed his eyes. "Carathwan… Can't we just…"

"Forget it?" she asked softly. "As we have pretended to do every other time you flinched from me?" She closed her eyes, slowly shaking her head. "I _can't_, Glorfindel. Every time you move away like that… it makes my heart ache," she admitted, pressing a hand to her chest as if it could somehow lessen the pain.

He reached a hand out, his fingers pausing in midair when she sidestepped him. He frowned slightly, reaching again.

She shook her head and moved even farther away.

"Carathwan?"

She was still shaking her head. "No, Glorfindel. Every time that I'm hurt by your fears you manage to set them aside enough to reach out a bit, to try and offer me some small comfort, but it won't be enough, will it? My pain can't get you through this. _I_ can't get you through this."

"Carathwan…"

"No. It has always been up to you. You thought to use me, and I thought at first that maybe that would work. That maybe I could somehow _fix_ you—" she laughed bitterly, tossing her head slightly. "But you're the only one who can." She looked at him then, saw his wince at her tears. "No," she ordered when he started to reach out once more. "I can take care of my own tears."

He looked at her for a long moment, and slowly shook his head. "Carathwan, please don't… don't do this."

"What else can I do?" she asked.

He couldn't find anything to say, no way to answer her.

"I've waited. I've pushed, prodded, coaxed… and there hasn't been any real improvement at all. You can hide a bit better, but that's all, isn't it?" She let out a heavy sigh, shaking her head. Pained eyes lifted to his clouded ones. "I don't think there's anything you can really say…"

"I don't want you to go," he murmured, voice low.

She closed her eyes. "I know. I know you love me, that you do want to reach out to me… but I can't keep destroying myself to help you." Slowly she turned, heading out of the garden, back to the bright feast and revelry that was going on within. She paused, glancing back at him where he still stood in the garden's heart. She watched the stars glimmer over him, tangling in his hair, his weary, heart-breaking eyes. "I do love you," she whispered, swallowing hard as she turned at last, stepping into the hall.

Lunian gasped when she saw her. Carathwan didn't notice, just slowly, numbly began walking through the crowd, making her way to the edge of the room to leave. Lunian got to her feet, unaware of Ethwan's curious questions.

_Love?_

"Legolas," she murmured aloud, before blinking, shaking herself. _Legolas, something has gone wrong_.

_Cara and Glorfindel?_

_Yes._

_Well, it was going to happen, wasn't it?_

_It doesn't have to_.

_But it apparently has_.

_Legolas, you're not helping._

_What would you have me do?_

She smiled slightly at his mental sigh, but bit her lip. She was torn—she wanted to go and yell at Glorfindel, yet she wanted to comfort Carathwan. She sighed. _Go knock some sense into Glorfindel. I'll make sure Cara cries it all out._

_I don't think 'knocking sense' into him will be of much help_.

_I'd feel better._

He chuckled. _Lunian, my love…_

_Oh, fine. But… something has to be done._

_I'm afraid I must admit to believing he is the only one who can do anything._

_Then_ encourage _him to do it on his own._

He laughed softly, and she caught a hint of light shining on his hair as he slipped out into the garden even as she finally reached the door leading to the corridor of rooms. _Yes, dear one._

She rolled her eyes and mentally swatted him for his tone.

Legolas looked at Glorfindel for a long moment, reading the line of the shoulders quite well, knowing what he, himself, had looked like not that long ago. Silently he made his way to the ancient warrior's side, staring up at the stars for a time as they both just thought.

"Lunian has gone after her?" Glorfindel asked at last.

"She decided I probably wouldn't be able to comfort her well enough she could come out here to harangue you instead."

Glorfindel closed his eyes. "So you've come to berate me?"

Legolas slowly shook his head. "You're doing that well enough on your own."

Glorfindel smiled bitterly. "I'm beginning to understand just what torment you were in—being so close yet unable to reach out for her…"

"It was different—I _could_ have done so, but didn't, because I _shouldn't_ have."

"A minor difference, really, as the result is the same."

"Distance," Legolas agreed after a long moment.

Glorfindel nodded.

The silence stretched on between them for a long while. Legolas eventually looked down from the sky. "How bad is it?"

Glorfindel glanced up, seeing what Legolas was referring to. "Every touch reminds me of his," he admitted at last. "She touches my arm, and I feel it burning, smell my armor melting, clothing, flesh and hair burning… sometimes I can't even _see_ her any more… It's all darkness and flame."

"She has been trying to ease you into comfort?"

"Yes."

"I take it that hasn't worked."

He shook his head slightly. "I can touch her a bit more, but so little… and she was right. Most of the time I simply hide my reaction from her… or _try_ to."

"Have you told Elrond?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"What could he do? I've considered it, but thinking of his… _methods_ terrify me more than death."

"Why?"

"Because I can just imagine him holding onto me."

Legolas frowned. "What?"

"I'm afraid of touch. So what would he do, but force me to endure it? At least, until I'm either _cured_ or broken entirely." Slowly he shook his head. "I rather think I would break, Legolas, horrible as it is to admit."

"Could you put yourself back together?"

Glorfindel shuddered slightly. "I don't know that I could _survive_ it, this time around any more than last time."

Legolas sighed softly, then shook his head. "Then I won't hug you."

"Thanks," Glorfindel murmured wryly.

_Legolas, have you wrung anything out of him yet?_

_Love, he is deeply injured by this._

_Well, Cara isn't crying_.

He winced. _That bad?_

_She loves him, Egola. He keeps her at a distance, apart. I'm sure you know how that is._

He sighed. _It is hardly any better for him, as he's the cause of not only his pain, but hers, which only pains him more._

_Is he going to do anything about it?_

_I honestly don't know what he could do, my love._

_Deal with it?_ She suggested tartly.

He unconsciously shook his head. _No. It isn't so simple. He recalls that which killed him every time he is touched. Can you imagine yourself an old woman, on the verge of your final sunset every time I touched you?_

Even at this distance, he could feel her shudder. _No._

_Then don't berate him for it._

_It's_ that _bad?_

_Yes._

She sighed. _But…_

_Love, as much as I love you, would love to please you… there is nothing I can say or do that will set this right. There just isn't. I can't even imagine being that close to a Balrog—the one in Moria was too close for comfort at the distance it was._

She shivered again. _Maybe Grandfather—_

_No, Milady. He fears that, too._

_What? Grandfather knowing, or what he might do?_

_What he_ would _do. Or have you forgotten what he did when he found out Ethwan was scared of spiders?_

She shuddered. _I'm just glad he didn't do that to everyone who didn't like spiders._

Legolas chuckled softly. _Most of us have a valid reason. We also tend to fear those that are as big as we are or bigger, rather than those barely the size of a child's nail._

He could feel her smile, then her slow, reluctant agreement. _All right,_ she sighed. _But I'm still going to try and think up something_.

_By all means, love._ He blinked slightly, shaking his head.

"Well?"

He blinked at Glorfindel, then smiled crookedly. "You're safe from her for now."

"Wonderful," he murmured sarcastically. "If… if she found a way…"

"We know," Legolas agreed, automatically moving to rest a hand on the other elf's shoulder. He caught himself, drawing back, sighing when he saw a faint bit of relief in the bright eyes across from his own.


	14. Echo of thunder

Sorry this wasn't up when it was supposed to be. This time of year is impossible. If I have the time to get on a computer, there isn't a computer. If there is a computer, the internet is working on the fritz at best.

Obviously, it decided to work for a few minutes, but I'm not holding my breath that it'll upload this time. I've been trying since Wednesday.

Apparently, had a few problems, too. I couldn't review, and a few e-mailed me to complain that they couldn't.

(Thanks!)

And thanks to those of you who actually managed to get a review through... I just hope the alerts are working!

* * *

_**Chapter 14 Echo of thunder**_

Ethwan tossed a battered old arrow up, catching it as it spiraled back to him, only to twist it around and toss it again.

"You're going to hurt yourself," Irithil murmured, frowning as he packed the remains of their lunch into the bundle it had originally been.

"No I'm not," Ethwan denied absently, tossing the arrow again.

"Last time you said that, you missed," Irithil reminded him quietly.

"I won't miss."

"You had to have Elrohir look at your eye." Irithil's brow twitched, recalling the bloody mess that had been made of their sibling lunch that day. It had taken hours to get Ethwan calmed down, even after Elrohir had taken care of his eye.

"I won't miss," Ethwan insisted, half-laughing, as if he couldn't be just as arrogant now as he had been at thirty.

Irithil sighed, shaking his head. "You can go find him by yourself, then," he muttered. "It will probably be quite difficult, as he and Lenaith have been holing up in their rooms so much recently. I doubt he always admits to being in there when he would rather not be disturbed—you'd have to shout out for all and sundry to hear that you'd managed to stab yourself in the eye with one of your arrows again."

Ethwan hesitated, fingers tightening over the arrow for a moment before he finally set it aside. "Is Lunian around, Cara?"

She shrugged absently, closing her eyes. She folded her arms under her head. "I don't know. Their talan was just completed this morning, I believe. They may lock themselves in for a few days."

Ethwan crinkled his nose. "I really don't need the visual, Cara."

"Get over it," she muttered, shaking her head.

"So, she isn't joining us?" he persisted.

"Even if she was here, I don't think she'd be joining us today, Ethwan."

"Why not?"

"Because this is the first one we've had in a while?"

"So? As you kept insisting, she is like our little sister…"

"Or older, in your case."

She smiled faintly, shaking her head. "The little sister, who is married and quite in love with her prince. She no doubt wants to spend some time with him."

"They're conjoined at the hip, Carathwan," Ethwan murmured dryly, without the rancor of previous times.

She laughed softly. "Yes… nauseatingly adorable, aren't they?" she asked, arching a brow.

Her brothers both snorted. "Makes the rest of us look downright cold," Ethwan muttered after a while.

Irithil scooted back, resting against a tree. He lifted his old, battered flute to his lips, playing their old play tune, bringing memory of times long past closer once again. With their eyes closed, they could all see themselves playing with Lunian, when they had all been quite young. They had been the only ones of that approximate age in Elrond's halls at the time.

Carathwan frowned slightly, remembering several times when Lunian had inexplicably stopped when they played on the shores, looking into the east, her eyes grave and tired.

She shook herself away from the past, listening to the faint echo of thunder as the world around them grew darker. A storm was coming.

She opened her eyes to watch the angry clouds come closer. "So, Thil… how's Alothie?"

"She's enjoying her nephews today."

"They're pretty young, aren't they?" Ethwan frowned, trying to remember from his time with her.

"Four and twenty," Irithil agreed.

"Why didn't you go with them?" she asked.

"Because it's our sibling lunch day," he answered, as if she shouldn't have asked.

She smiled slightly, closing her eyes as the thick clouds broke up, light spilling over her again from the small fissure.

"So, Cara… how are things with Luthier?"

She turned her head, looking at Ethwan, who was watching her pensively. She shrugged faintly.

"You've been eating, sitting, dancing, walking, riding, swimming—and I hope that's the end of it—with him in the last few months."

She nodded silently.

"Carathwan… he's not for you."

A bitter smile touched her lips. "I know."

"You shouldn't be like me, just because you _can_, you know."

"I'm not."

"Then why does he still behave so nervously giddy around you, and simply terrified around us? Those are not the actions of an old friend."

She sighed, rolling onto her stomach, reaching out to toy with a flower that was near her hand.

"He is trying to court you, Carathwan."

"I'm not _blind_, Ethwan," she hissed, pushing herself up so she was kneeling, better able to glare at him. "I _know_ what he's doing."

"Then why do you allow it?" he persisted.

"Why shouldn't I?"

He shook his head. "You've always been more like Irithil. Don't start switching now."

"Why shouldn't I enjoy the attention, the affection, for once in my life?" she asked angrily, sweeping her hand out in the grass in an agitated move that deflowered several plants.

"There will be others, Cara—others who are far more suited for a fiery elf like you," he murmured quietly, watching her carefully.

She let out a choked laugh. "Fiery?" she asked, her eyes misting over. "How do I stop the fire?" she asked, curling into herself, a low cry escaping her as her body began shaking.

"Cara?" Ethwan and Irithil crowded her, Ethwan curling up behind her, hugging her, Irithil trying to see her face, holding her hands engulfed in his own larger ones as she turned to the earth to avoid him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, heart twisting to see her tears.

She shook her head.

"I don't believe that."

She sobbed again, pulling her hands away from him to cover her face. "There won't be any others," she managed at last. "Not for me… not for him." She shook her head slightly, and sounded so much like she was talking to herself that her brothers didn't rightly know what to do about her statement.

"She's crying over Luthier?" Ethwan asked eventually.

Irithil scowled at him as a strangled giggling sob escaped her. "Baby sister," he crooned, kissing her brow. "Who hurt you?"

"It hurts him more," she countered, closing her eyes against him.

"Who?"

"Luthier, apparently," Ethwan muttered.

"Grow up," Irithil snapped, glaring up at him for a moment. "Luthier is apparently just a distraction, poor lad."

She made a mewling noise at that, her tears coming more quickly.

Ethwan and Irithil looked at each other in total distress, not knowing what to do, what to say, as everything they said seemed to only make it worse. "Irithil can hold him for you to slap," Ethwan murmured. "It got my attention."

"Ethwan! You're hardly helping!" a frazzled-looking Lunian snapped when she stormed into the clearing, pulling him back before she dropped to the ground, quickly wrapping her arms tightly around Carathwan.

"Cara, what—"

"Shut it, Irithil," Lunian hissed, pulling Carathwan up, helping her sit up, pulling her into a hug as she rocked slowly. "You can go now," she murmured pointedly, stroking her friend's hair.

Ethwan and Irithil backed off, but watched the two females. They stood uncertainly at the tree-line, closing their eyes in relief when Carathwan's tears stopped. Lunian blotted at them, drying her cheeks, settling her hair behind her ears, smoothing it slowly, with long, gentle strokes. They spoke quietly for a short while, Carathwan going silent at something Lunian said before nodding quickly.

They got slowly to their feet, Lunian's arm around Carathwan's waist as they headed towards the hall. Legolas met them, handing something to Lunian, who nodded, kissing his cheek before they walked on.

Ethwan and Irithil reached Legolas's side as he watched them leave. "What's going on?" Ethwan asked.

"Who is he?"

Legolas sighed, and slowly shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand in an absently worried gesture that did nothing to calm them. "Leave her be for now. She needs time."

"Lunian seems to know," Ethwan grumbled.

Legolas snorted. "She probably knew before they did."

Irithil groaned. "That is _really_ disconcerting."

Legolas smiled slightly. "It always has been."

Ethwan looked back at the building. "Will she be alright?"

The prince nodded. "Yes. No matter what comes of this, with time she will heal."

"Oh, that makes it _so_ much better," Irithil groused.

A faint smile touched Legolas's lips. "When she can speak of it, you will know."

"And hopefully understand?" Ethwan muttered.

"That depends entirely on you."


	15. Fiery one

Eek! I almost forgot to get this updated!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Alatarial Elf: The time frame is one of those things I just don't think about. Since it's the elves, time is kind of liquid. But for this chapter, it's a few days--up to a week, week and a half, later.

Animir: Glad you like it... and we're very close to the end, so you may begin your self-imposed task of rereading it anytime. ;-)

LJP: Well... It's not going to make it that far. Glorfindel gets a kick in the pants first.

* * *

_**Chapter 15 Fiery one**_

"This must be the dullest party I've ever been to," Glorfindel muttered.

Haldir snorted. "Well, with the racket of this storm, the musicians can't play and be heard."

"And everyone else is just sitting there, waiting for it to be over," he sighed. Then he snorted. "Well, at least it isn't _my_ victory party which is so dismal."

Haldir chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You two were distracted," he chided, lifting his goblet to his lips.

"Yes… as were you, really. What's her name?"

He choked, turning red from the tips of his ears to his collar as he tried to clear his lungs. "Lunian!"

She laughed, opening her eyes, turning slightly within Legolas's embrace to see him. "Well, it's true, is it not? Someone has caught your eye."

"Can you tell more than that?" he asked, lifting a brow.

She shook her head slightly. "Sorry, don't know you well enough."

"After all these years," he shook his head, mockingly.

She laughed before wincing as another rumbling roar shook the hall. "Chasing after me when I got lost while visiting Galadriel hardly counts."

"Don't you mean 'Great-grandmother'?" he asked, rather pointedly.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "No."

"Very mature, _Princess_," he mused.

Legolas chuckled, kissing her cheek as she repeated the gesture. He winced at the next ear-ringing blast of thunder, before sighing.

"Why are you here, anyway?" Glorfindel asked.

"Celebrating," Lunian deadpanned. "After all, Haldir won the Ancient's Trials."

Haldir snorted. "You, too?" he asked, shaking his head. "All you young ones."

"Yes," Glorfindel mused, finishing the rest of his wine.

Haldir looked at him curiously, then sent a sly glance at Legolas and Lunian. "It seems you two have started something of a trend," he mused.

"Oh?" Legolas asked, leaning back slightly. "So your distraction was quite young?"

Haldir scowled. "I wasn't talking about myself."

Legolas chuckled, about to respond when they felt a sudden charge hit the ground. The small hairs on their necks and arms bristling, they surged to their feet with the others, looking out the windows and off the balconies at the wood in the direction of the impact.

"Oh, Valar, Legolas. It's by our talan."

"You can rebuild," Haldir murmured softly, though not without some sympathy. He knew, after all, the hassle the two had gone through to have it built, as Thranduil and Elrond both thought it somewhat inappropriate.

"You don't understand," she murmured, breaking away from Legolas to dash out into the rain. "Carathwan is there."

"What?" Glorfindel asked, turning sharply, his eyes searching the night, seeing the faint glow of light in the wood at a distance.

"She's hurt," Lunian suddenly cried, taking a few steps which turned to a run before Legolas caught her, holding her back. "Legolas!" she protested, struggling against him.

"You couldn't make it on time without a horse," he shouted hoarsely over the wind and slashing rain.

"Where is it?" Glorfindel called over the wind, having already grabbed a horse, astride as he looked down at them. Legolas gave him the directions, and with a sagging Lunian still held tightly in his arms watched him ride away.

"Legolas…"

"I know, love." He kissed behind her ear, a faint frown between his brows. "I know."

Glorfindel swallowed as he rode closer to the flames, the panic of knowing she was out here slowly being replaced by the remembrance of how little he liked fire. The trees were burning, crying in their pain, their anguish echoing in his mind, his body.

It took all his skill to keep the horse calm beneath him as they moved as carefully yet as quickly as they could through the flaming debris.

"Valar," he breathed, seeing one of the talan's platforms was burning at a crooked angle. "Carathwan!" he called, seeing the steps under that part had broken away.

Having looked over the plans a few times, advising and offering wry commentary that neither Legolas nor Lunian had appreciated, he moved quickly to the other stair, running up to the smoky room. "Carathwan!" he called again, looking at the choices offered him here. Three paths. Three rooms. Where would she have been?

He didn't even know which room was supposed to have been which. He rested his hand against the trunk that grew through the room he'd reached, bending all of his strength to getting the information he needed. Through the tree's torment, he slowly learned where she was, and straightened shakily, turning in that direction…

To see nothing but flame.

Flame with eyes of pure evil, a weapon enflamed, clawed hands…

For a long moment he was consumed by those flames, their heat embracing him with a harsh hold he couldn't break. A small voice urged him to just give in to death, to let this torture cease once more.

"No!" he shook himself, breathing heavily, coughing as all he inhaled was smoke. He took a precious moment to close his eyes, to think of her, the reason he was battling the elements… and himself. With jaw clenched he opened his eyes and walked closer to the flames, peering through them, over them, into the room beyond. "Carathwan!"

The faintest movement caught his eye.

He strode through the flames, feeling them lick at him greedily before he was through them, all the while concentrating on her, and her alone, refusing to acknowledge the flames by so much as shielding his nose from the ash and smoke. "Carathwan?" he asked hoarsely, reaching out to her, turning her.

She coughed, shook her head slightly, foggily looking up at him, then around them in alarm as memory was slowly restored. "Glorfindel, what…"

He shook his head, and studied the wood that was pinning her leg to the floor. "Not now."

"But…"

"Later," he insisted, ignoring the flames that danced along the beam, pushing up against it, smelling the acrid burning of hair and flesh as he lifted it with his back. She squirmed away, looking up at him with wide eyes as he let the wood fall. He picked her up, and stood in the middle of the room, seeing flame everywhere…

"Glorfindel?"

He identified the direction that would take them to the broken stairs, and swiftly walked the other way, placing his feet carefully through the flame, moving as quickly as was safe until he was through the smoke, the flame.

Her scream died as the flames were forced to leave them, as they finally reached the stairs and could return to the ground, where many elves of Greenwood and Imladris were, healers impatiently waiting.

"Cara!" Lunian cried, starting to rush forward, only to be held back by Legolas again. "I am really _not_ enjoying that," she muttered, when struggling against his hold proved useless. As usual.

"They need to have their burns treated, Lunian." He snorted. "And even then, I don't think they'd want you attacking them."

She scowled, hovering over them all the way back to Elrond's healing room, until Elrohir finally passed an herb before her nose, knocking her out.

Legolas chuckled, catching her easily as Elrohir shook his head. "She never could handle others being hurt."

"She feels their pain, Elrohir," Legolas murmured softly. "I'm going to take her to my rooms," he murmured.

Elrohir nodded. "Good. It will give us a little bit more of a head start."

Legolas laughed, looked at the two injured elves, and sighed softly.

"Their burns aren't too bad."

"_Any_ are too bad," Legolas countered softly.

Elrohir shrugged slightly, and went back to work on Glorfindel as Elladan worked on Carathwan's burns, Elrond looking at her mangled leg.

When they finally finished and left the room, she looked over at Glorfindel, who had been staring absently at the wall for the last hour. "Glorfindel?" she asked softly.

He started, turning to face her. He reached out with a sigh, touching her chopped off hair. "It'll grow back," he murmured softly.

She smiled faintly. "I know," she agreed, before giggling. "Yours is shorter."

He lifted a brow, then moved his hand back to his own hair, finding it had been cut to less than an inch long. He snorted, shaking his head. "So it is." He touched her cheek gently. "What happened?"

She shook her head. "I'm not quite sure. I was listening to the thunder, heard a loud splitting sound, felt the room shake, and started to get up… then," she shrugged. "Nothing until I heard someone calling me." She tilted her head to the side. "You walked through the flame like it wasn't there."

He looked at her for a long moment, noted the burns that had been covered, looked at his own, and then shrugged. "It wasn't."

"You're touching me," she continued.

He looked at his hand, where it was still resting against her cheek, and arched his thumb. "So I am," he agreed quietly.

"Findel?" She stifled a cry of pain when she tried to move, biting the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. "What happened?"

"We felt the impact, went to the window. Lunian realized it first, tried to run here. Legolas held her back. She said you were here… and I was on a horse, hearing Legolas give me directions."

"You walked into fire for me?"

"You needed me."

She blinked, tilting her head. "But you can't even _look_ at fire."

"It started to change," he admitted. "It formed eyes, evil shadows, claws… but you needed me. I banished him, to reach you. Instead of ignoring you, the feel of your skin… I ignored him." He touched her chin-length hair again, tucking it mournfully behind her ear. "Fiery one," he murmured quietly. He hesitated for an instant. "I'm sorry."

"Fiery one?" she questioned hesitantly.

He smiled slightly, resting his forehead against hers. "Yes."

"But…"

"No," he countered, "That's a good thing."

She looked at him for a long moment, then shifted carefully so she wouldn't hurt herself. With the injured inside of her cheek between her teeth she reached up, touching his cheek. He didn't flinch, didn't move away, and was still looking at her with the faintest smile. "Findel?" she asked hesitantly.

"I made it through fire. I survived it."

"That was enough?"

He touched her hand, moving it from his cheek to what was left of his hair, tilting his head into her touch. "Apparently."

She curled her fingers into the locks, a tear slipping from her tremulous grey eyes as she closed them for a moment. "I love you."

"And I you, my little fiery one," he murmured, shifting a bit closer, his fingers curving along her jaw, lifting her chin for a slow kiss. He pressed his forehead to hers, and slowly quirked a brow, a fierce look lighting his eyes.

"What?"

"I suggest a very quiet apology to your… _suitor_."

She flushed, but nodded, feeling some feminine pleasure at the faint hint of jealousy in his tone.


	16. How things always went

I'm sorry, guys--I meant to have this up by last Sunday at the latest, but when I tried to get into the computer lab, it was not only locked, but barred (as if we could get into a locked room, anyway). So, this is my first chance to sneak onto a computer. I didn't have a chance to get a disk, or anything similar, so this is just what was already on the net when I was barred access to the lab. In other words, this chapter, an eventual 'A Moment in Immortal Time' chapter, but nothing for With Invisible Chains.

This is the FINAL chapter. (Thus the COMPLETE in the story summary).

Thanks for your patience and your reviews!

Iluvenis: Sorry, just this one chapter of mush.

Alatarial Elf: I know. I tried to draw it out, but I was also trying to keep it a bit harsh in the hopes it might come across as a little real. Finally (after about ten re-writes and numerous rereadings) I just mentally shrugged and posted it.

Animir: Nope, that's fine with me. I had to do the same: School's out, so I now have time to read more than a one-shot ficlet... of course, I don't really have internet access. I've been smuggled in to work on this one, and my time's almost up. So I have to read actual books--the horror! Glorfindel just finally had enough of a reason to battle his own demons. So, enough is enough, and that's enough (if that makes sense).

LJP: I could hear your review as a voice announcer--it was quite amusing, though rather sarcastic, in my head. That's the trouble with living through cold letters. Oh well. I foud it amusing, at least.

Name1: Well, thanks. Flames are annoying when they can't be used to toast marshmellows.

Lucretia: Well, there's only this chapter--sorry! I haven't really read much Glorfindel fanfiction to point you to. Name1's (see above) A Girl Named Jack is good, but the second part isn't finished (or wasn't, last I checked).

And to all those who haven't read beyond LOTR, there was an elf named Legolas of Gondolin, who I believed died in the battle. He and Glorfindel were friends (or at least, that's what's hinted at).

* * *

_**Chapter16 How things always went**_

"Leaf!" Carathwan sighed. "Get off the roof!"

"But Mother," he whined, peering down at her from the overhang.

"Legolas!" she growled, even as she tried not to remember how many times she'd been up there herself at his age… and younger.

With a sigh he jumped down, dangling for a moment by his fingers before letting go. Carathwan closed her eyes in some relief when he was safely on the ground. She'd have to apologize to her parents, someday.

Lunian laughed as she came outside. "I understand _why_ he wanted to remember his other friend Legolas, but it's still disconcerting to hear you calling my husband to get off the roof."

"I know," Carathwan agreed ruefully. "But we agreed. I got to name the first girl, he got to name the first boy."

"What about the third, fourth and fifth?"

"There are no plans for a fifth at the moment… But we left that free for arguing."

"And I'm sure you have," Lunian laughed brightly as the dark-haired Legolas looked up at her, his bright eyes wide. "What is it, Leaf?" she asked, tilting her head down slightly to better reach his height without straining her back.

"Can I talk to the baby?" he asked, hands clasped behind him as he swayed impatiently back and forth.

"Alright," she agreed, guiding his small hands to the right places on her distended abdomen.

He stared at it for a while, then grinned, inclining his head slightly in thanks before running off again.

"Leaf! Dinner is soon so don't go too far!"

"All _right_, Mother!"

"I don't know where he gets it," Lunian mused dryly.

Carathwan laughed brightly. "Well, most who knew me at that age think he's completely mine. But those who knew Glorfindel insist he's a miniature version… with dark hair."

A tall, willowy young elf with bright golden hair and blue eyes came out of the hall. Her head was bent over a bit of blue cloth. She tilted her head up, tucking some of her hair absently behind her ear. "Mother, could you come look at this? I can't seem to make it lie flat," she fretted.

Carathwan moved over to the young elf, and looked at the cloth, smiling slightly. "You're almost done, aren't you?"

"Yes. I just need to get this little bit done. Then I can give it to Ada when he gets home."

She smiled and showed Neintolli how to stitch it properly.

Neintolli smiled and rushed back inside, so it would be hidden if Glorfindel returned before she was done.

Carathwan shook her head with a slight smile, checking in on the youngest before rejoining Lunian.

"Still asleep?"

"Contentedly," she agreed, smiling faintly, tilting her head back against the balcony's pillar.

Lunian laughed as she heard Leaf and Rothalin arguing in the trees just out of sight. "I think you're going to have to make them wash up again."

"I know." She looked at the east again, then sighed, shaking her head. "Well, it seems we might as well start—" she stilled when Lunian suddenly smiled, getting to her feet. "They're close?" she asked quietly, not wanting to tip the children off.

Lunian smiled, nodding. "Yes."

Carathwan waited only until she saw the two golden heads. She leapt from the balcony, racing forward, lifting her arms.

Glorfindel caught her with a laugh and a series of hungry kisses, before setting her feet back on the ground. "Hello, Fiery One," he murmured, nuzzling her cheek. He tucked some of her long dark hair behind her ear with a slight smile.

She opened her mouth to reply when Leaf and Rothalin swarmed him, getting muddy prints all over his traveling clothes. "Go wash up!" she protested with a laugh, shooing them all towards the halls.

"How is the little one?" Glorfindel asked, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her to his side.

"He _was_ sleeping. He's probably awake now, with them barreling through like wild horses."

Legolas chuckled softly, tilting his wife's head slightly as the other couple passed them, entering the hall. He studied her eyes for a long moment before kissing her. "How has he been behaved?" he asked quietly.

"He's missed his Ada," she replied quietly, taking his hand from her cheek to rest it over their child. She closed her eyes, smiling slightly as the child calmed within her as Legolas reconnected with him. "How was the trip?" she asked softly when he pulled her close.

"Interesting," he shrugged.

"Meaning?" she laughed.

"We were both wishing we'd made Haldir come to visit us," he answered, kissing her gently before leading her into the halls.

"But he's _still_ chasing after her… isn't he?"

"Which is why he didn't want to leave."

"Next time just remind him that absence makes the heart grow fonder."

He smiled slightly, kissing her.

They broke apart with a laugh as Glorfindel was piled with elves. Carathwan, Leaf and Rothlin swarmed him, the gold of his hair all but covered as they wrestled with him. Neintolli watched with a smile from the door, the cloak she'd sewn hidden behind her back. When Glorfindel came up swinging Carathwan around, no one was really surprised—that's how things always went.


End file.
